


Kindness of Strangers

by QueenBagelcat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst and Feels, Brotherly Affection, Canon-Typical Violence, Caring John Winchester, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Developing Friendships, Gen, No Slash, Original Character(s), Past Child Abuse, Pre-Season/Series 01, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 10:59:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 62,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13809780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenBagelcat/pseuds/QueenBagelcat
Summary: It's April 1994 and Sam and Dean are alone in a motel waiting for John when they make a new friend. As they bond with their new neighbor, they learn some hard truths, and that not all monsters are supernatural. (Rated M for some darker content. Chapters will have warnings if needed, but don't worry, nothing you haven't seen on TV.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well I'm back with my 5th story. I actually broke the back of this during NaNoWriMo but it took a while to finish. There are lots of potential triggers in this but I'll try and post a warning at the beginning of any chapter if I feel there is anything that merits a warning. Thanks in advance for reading. Constructive criticism is valued and appreciated.

Dean stepped off the bus and turned the collar of his jacket up. Pausing, he automatically looked for anything concerning, or out of the ordinary. But other than the nippy April wind that was pushing the cold cotton of his jeans against his legs, there was nothing in Butler, Pennsylvania that seemed anything but ordinary.

Turning, he motioned his younger brother off the bus. "Thank you," Sam said to the grumpy middle aged bus driver. Sam practically skipped to Dean's side and the two brothers began the short walk to the shabby motel where their Dad had set them a week ago. Dad had bought some supplies and left a decent amount of money this time. Which told Dean that his father's promise to be "back in a week, 10 days tops" was about as real as the Easter Bunny. Pushing thoughts of Dad out of his mind, Dean threw an arm across the skinny shoulders of his kid brother. Sam's coat wasn't warm enough for the unusually cold temperatures they'd been having, so Dean casually drew the smaller boy closer to share his body heat.

"Dean, did you know that when it's cold, your body experiences peripheral vasoconstriction? It's where the blood vessels near the surface of the skin begin to constrict." Sam grinned up at the older boy, his enthusiasm for science gleaming in his hazel eyes.

"No geek-boy. All I know is it's too damn cold for this time of year and you need to put on your hat," grouched Dean lightly. His own ears were tingling and he zipped the collar of his jacket up tighter before shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his canvas jacket.

Dutifully, Sam pulled a blue and red striped woolly hat out of his pocket and pulled it over his shaggy hair. They were only the length of the parking lot from their room, but Dean didn't want Sam to get cold. Sammy had just gotten over a low level chest cold that had worried Dean. The skinny 10 year old continued to natter on about his science teacher and the experiments the class were working on, but Dean listened with only half an ear. He just wanted to get to their room and begin the Easter long weekend. Although Dad had ordered his sons to keep up their training, Dean's plans also involved too much TV and sleeping in.

The Best Budget Motel was actually made up of three buildings. The largest of the three was a long row of 10 units which faced the parking lot and the road beyond. The other two buildings were at ninety degree angles to the larger row, framing the parking lot like a 3 sided courtyard. On one side there was the motel office with the manager's unit, a coin operated laundry, and a tiny, overpriced convenience store where the boys occasionally bought soda and a few groceries that were too heavy to carry back on the bus from town. Directly opposite the motel office on the other side of the large parking lot was the smallest of the motel buildings with three units. Dad had made sure that the manager put them in the end unit of that building, closest to the road and as far away from the rent-by-the hour activities going on in the other units. Dean knew from experience that motels had thin walls and was glad that Dad has made the extra effort, especially for Sammy's sake. He'd like Sam to learn about certain parts of the "birds and the bees" when he was a little older than he currently was. And they both slept better without the distracting sound effects.

As Dean was unlocking the motel room door he saw the curtains in the unit next to them twitch. He assumed that someone had rented it during the day even though there was no car in front of the unit. Hopefully the new neighbours weren't noisy. Dean checked their own room before ushering his brother into their temporary home. Stepping carefully over the salt line at the door, Sam dropped his bag on the small kitchen table and kicked off his running shoes. He grabbed a book out of his school bag and within a couple of minutes was curled up on one end of the small, lumpy couch. Dean stowed his own school stuff and then began looking to see what was left that he could make for dinner. The cupboards were not bare like they sometimes were when Dad took off on an extended hunt because the plan was to stay in this town until the end of the school year, but Dean knew that things could change. He'd gone hungry before to make sure that Sammy could eat when the money ran out before Dad made it home. He decided that there was enough bread left to have cheese sandwiches with the can of soup.

It wasn't until he and Sam were camped out on the couch well after dinner, that Dean first noticed the sound. A baby was crying next door. Better than sex noises, he guessed, but it was annoying anyway. He turned the volume up on the TV a bit louder and tried to ignore it. But half an hour later and he could still hear the baby wailing. "Geez, somebody go pick up the kid!," he muttered.

"Huh?," said Sam. The youngest Winchester was pretty engrossed in the show they were watching. The opportunity to see the same TV show on a consistent basis was still a novelty.

"Nothing Sam, there's a baby crying next door. Just ignore it," shrugged Dean. But the tension was starting to build in his shoulders. Why wouldn't someone pick up the kid? When Sam was a baby and started to cry, either Dad or he would go almost immediately to check on him. It's not good for a baby to sit in a wet diaper or to cry for so long. Was something wrong with it? Dean hadn't heard any voices or other sounds from the other side of the wall. Had someone left the child alone? Finally when the baby had been crying for a full hour, Dean couldn't take it any longer. He stood up. "Sammy wait here for a minute," he said as he slipped on his shoes, grabbed the key, and moved towards the door.

Carefully closing it behind him, Dean knocked on the door of the adjacent room. Normally Dad wouldn't be happy with him drawing attention to himself, but Dean just felt like something was off. And he'd learned not to ignore his gut feelings. Whenever he did, something bad would happen. Besides, he'd simply say he that he'd knocked on the wrong door if anyone answered. The only noise on the other side of the door was the continued high pitched wailing of a very unhappy baby. Remembering the curtains from earlier, Dean cautiously crept to the window. He hoped he wasn't about to witness some of the lurid goings on that he knew happened at motels like this, but surely people couldn't be getting it on with a baby shrieking non-stop in the same room. With a fortifying breath, Dean peeked in through the slit in the curtains.

The layout of the room was similar to the one he and Sam were in, except that there was only one bed and Dean could see a crib set up in front of the dresser that held the room's TV. The room looked empty, normal and peaceful except for the tiny flailing fists and feet of the little one in the crib. Then Dean spotted two sock clad feet lying on the floor, just visible around the other side of the bed. He knocked on the window, but the feet didn't move. Stepping back Dean considered what to do.

Obviously the infant needed attention and whoever those feet belonged to was either unconscious or dead. Dean wasn't about to call the cops to check. The last thing they needed was any official attention that might knock on their room next door asking for their Dad. And with a baby in distress Child Protective Services would be called and there was no way Dean would risk anyone from that agency being within grabbing distance of Sam. Chewing on his bottom lip and rubbing his chilly arms, the young hunter made a decision. Letting himself back into his warm room, he pulled up his duffle and began to dig around.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam's curiosity was peaked as his big brother returned to their room with a blast of cold air. "What's going on Dean?," he demanded watching as Dean dug through his duffle.

"Nothing Sam, I'm just going to check things out. Stay here," Dean ordered as he triumphantly pulled his lock pick set from the bag.

"C'mon Dean, I know something's up. What do you need that for? Where are you going?" Perhaps a bit of fear had crept in his voice, but Sam didn't care. He hated the idea of Dean leaving the room again without telling him was was going on. Plus, even though he tried to be tough, like a Winchester should be, Sam could admit to himself that he really didn't like being left alone. The pre-teen watched as Dean shrugged into his jacket. Dean paused and took the emergency handgun that they kept in the nightstand between the beds and tucked it into the back of his jeans. Sam's fear ratcheted up another notch. What did Dean need a gun for? He jumped off the bed where he had been perched and grabbed Dean's sleeve.

Green eyes rolled and Sam got a pointed look at his restraining hand. "Relax Sam, I'm just going to check on the baby next door. Don't worry, I'll be right back."

Sam let his brother tug the sleeve out of his grip and watched the door close. He quickly pulled on his own sneakers and jacket and followed Dean outside. The older boy was working on picking the lock when he looked up, his annoyance clear on his face.

"Look, I'll just keep an eye out to make sure no one's watching OK," Sam pleaded. Dean sighed, but nodded and went back to his task. Sam moved behind his brother to help screen his activities and carefully scanned the parking lot. There were a couple of cars parked in front of rooms in the longer part of the motel, but no one seemed to be out in the cold night air, much less paying any attention to what Sam and his brother were doing.

xxxxxxx

The lock wasn't that challenging, Dad had made him practice plenty, but Dean's fingers were cold and he hadn't actually broken into a room that had an unknown stranger in it before. With a quiet snick, he felt the tension release from the door handle and he slid his picks into a jacket pocket. With a firm look and hand gesture, Dean motioned Sam to stay put. Easing the door open Dean stealthily made his way to the crib. A quick glance showed a baby in a pink flowered onesie. The infant's face was red and wet with tears, and her little limbs were flopping weakly. Her big blue eyes focused on him, and the crying softened to a series of soggy sounding gurgles. Still on high alert, Dean crept around the bed towards the still unmoving feet. His hand hovered at his back, ready to pull the gun if needed.

Beside the bed, lying on her face was what looked like a teenaged girl dressed in jeans and a grey and black striped sweater. She looked to be about Dean's own age, but it was hard to tell with her head turned away. Long brown hair was spread out around her and her arms were outstretched as if she had tried to catch herself while falling. Extending his own foot, he nudged her sock clad feet a couple of times, jostling the limp body. "Miss?," he called out raising his voice slightly to be heard over the still fussy baby. Dean inched closer, bent over and shook her shoulder slightly. "Miss?," he tried again and was rewarded with a groan muffled into the carpet. "Well at least she's not dead," he thought to himself. Shaking her a little more firmly seemed to rouse the young woman, so he stepped back as she pushed herself up on wobbly arms. She turned her head to move the hair away from her face, seemingly noticing Dean for the first time.

The girl gasped suddenly and flipping over scuttled away from him, wedging her back against the wall with her hands in front of her defensively. "What happened, who are you?," she demanded. Her eyes were wild with panic and she was obviously terrified, frantically scanning the room while trying to scrunch herself further into the corner between the bed and the wall.

Dean held his hands up in the universal non-threatening gesture and took a step back. "Hey, it's Ok, I'm not going to hurt you," he soothed as if she were a frightened animal he was trying to calm. He crouched down, still keeping his distance. "Are you OK? Did you fall?," Dean asked.

Just then the room door opened and Sam poked his head around the jamb. He made his way over to where Dean was hunched and goggled at the girl. Her eyes glanced at Sam and Dean saw her do a startled double take before the scared young woman stared wide eyed at the youngest Winchester. "Daniel?," The girl gasped the question in confused wonder.

"Um, no...I'm Sam." The shaggy headed kid dropped to his knees beside Dean, and gave the girl his friendliest smile. "Are you Ok? Did you hurt yourself?," he questioned.

Dean threw out his arm, blocking his brother from moving closer to the girl. He was getting frustrated. The baby was weakly crying again, the girl seemed to have a few screws loose, and they were crouched on the floor of someone else's room. He still didn't know what was going on. What if another person was going to return to the room? Parents of the baby perhaps? Or at least someone who wouldn't be very happy to have two nosy neighbour kids hanging around? Dean couldn't let his brother's kind nature put them at risk.

"My name is Angela," the girl said weakly. Now that she was a bit calmer, Dean could hear an unfamiliar accent in her voice. She had a small lump on her forehead which he recognized as coming from the edge of the night table. He could also see the bags under her brown eyes and the tremor in the hand she used to push her hair out of her face. She looked grey and exhausted. "I went to lie down and I got dizzy, then he woke me up," Angela said pointing at Dean with her chin.

"That's my big brother Dean," Sam offered. Dean saw Sam's eyes narrow as he stared at the girl who was still wedged into the corner. The elder boy recognized the look. It was Sam's thinking face, the one he got when he was putting together the information his freaky smart brain needed to solve a puzzle. "When did you last eat?," Sam asked the girl in a serious tone.

Angela tilted her head, obviously confused. "I'm not sure...maybe yesterday...I think," she said softly.

Dean caught up to Sam's train of thought. If the girl's blood sugar was that low, she could have easily fainted. Fishing a few coins out of his pocket, he pressed them into Sam's hand. "Go get her a Coke from the machine. Come right back," he said sternly. He was a little uncomfortable letting Sam out of his sight, but the soda machine was less than 10 feet from the door. Repressing an anxious sigh, Dean turned back to Angela. "Here, let's get you sitting on the bed." He offered her a hand up. Hesitantly, dark eyes scanning his face, she reached out and took the offered appendage. Dean pulled her up and helped balance her slight weight as she shifted to perch on the edge of the bed. The girl had felt lighter than Sam. Despite the baggy, oversized sweater, he would bet she was skin and bones. Her slim hand had certainly felt fragile in his grip.

Just then, Sam reappeared, soda in hand and with a smile offered it to the brunette sitting on the bed. She took it from him and with fumbling fingers, popped the top and took a long swallow. Angela's eyes never left Sam's face, her expression one of confused awe as she continued to stare at him. As Dean considered her odd look, the baby made another choking squeal. Figuring that Angela wasn't a threat to Sam who stood watching her drink, Dean turned his attention to the pink clad baby.

Reaching into the crib he picked up the little girl and cuddled her next to his chest. He could feel the wetness on her bottom and bouncing her gently, scanned the room for the diaper bag he assumed would be close by. He found it on the floor next to the crib and with his free hand, pulled the bag onto the lumpy sofa. Pausing he looked at the young woman sipping her drink. "She's wet, I'm just going to get her changed OK?" Dean figured he should ask before manhandling someone else's kid.

Angela just nodded, so he shifted the baby to his hip and swiftly laid out a recieving blanket on the couch. He pulled out the wipes, powder, a fresh diaper and a new outfit from the bag. Lowering the child down he efficiently unsnapped the wet romper and diaper and peeled them off of the little body. The baby began to fuss harder as the cool air hit her skin. Dean rested his palm on her chest and hushed her. It had been a while since he had done this, but apparently it was like riding a bike. Or in his case shooting a gun, because that was a far more familiar activity in his life than cycling. He had to admit, there were a few differences between changing this little girl and Sam. Not only were his hands bigger and his arms longer now, so it was easier to hold her still, but he also wasn't about to get sprayed in the face during the process. Sam had caught him in the eye more than once when he was a baby. In just a few moments the little one was cleaned up, dry and dressed. Standing up, Dean cuddled the fresher smelling child and carried her over to where Sam and Angela were still shyly staring at each other.

When she saw him approach with the baby, Angela put down her soda and reached her arms out in silent request. Dean handed off the child with a surprising feeling of reluctance. Instead of gripping the little one closer, he figured he should say something.

"What's her name?," he asked as he carefully made the transfer. Angela snuggled the baby to her thick sweater and pressed her cheek to the tiny head of soft reddish-brown curls.

"Penny," she said with a tender love in her voice that pulled uncomfortably at the soft part of Dean's heart - the one he tried to keep hidden from anyone but his kid brother.

Sam sat beside Angela on the edge of the bed, staring at the little face in her arms. He waggled his fingers at Penny, making Dean chuckle. Of course Sam didn't exactly get a chance to hang out with babies, but he looked like a dork. Watching his brother reminded Dean that they had actually broken into this room and therefore should beat a hasty retreat back to their own. Grabbing the collar of Sam's jacket, he tugged his brother to his feet.

"Well," he said, clearing his throat awkwardly, "we should be getting back." Dean began backing towards the door, dragging Sam after him. "Don't forget to eat something," he admonished.

"Bye Angela, it was nice to meet you," said Dean's ever polite little brother as he was hustled out of the room. Dean re-locked the door on their way out and chivied Sam the few cold feet to their door.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean lay in the dark, turning over for the third time in the past ten minutes. He had double checked the locks, salt lines and other warding before climbing into bed hours ago. The even, steady breathing from the other bed told him that Sam had fallen asleep, but Dean was restless. He couldn't stop thinking about the girl and the baby next door. He wondered how Angela was doing. Did she remember to eat something? What was she doing in this crappy motel, alone with a baby? Was Penny her sister? At 15 Dean was old enough to know that Penny could easily be Angela's child. After all, she wouldn't be the first teen mom ever. He sighed, punched down the musty pillow and rolled onto his side again, facing Sam.

As Dean looked at his sleeping brother, he remembered how hard it had been when Sam was Penny's age. Dad was usually around, but he was drunk so often that it had fallen on Dean to check on Sam during the night. After doing his best to make sure that Dad was breathing and in the recovery position, Dean would climb into Sam's crib and make sure that baby Sammy was clean and dry. Sometimes he would give Sam his soother, but most of the time Sammy had simply stopped crying when Dean held him. Baby Sam had looked up at him with those big blue-green eyes and just stared until he fell back asleep. Dean remembered being so sleepy that lots of nights he had simply settled in beside his brother right in the crib where Dad would find them both in the morning. Now that Dean was practically an adult, he understood that his father had been drowning his pain, loss and anger in whiskey. He would never say this out loud to anyone ever, but he remembered how scary and confusing it had been. Dad would careen between weepy and loving, hugging Dean too tight with tears in his eyes and the smell of alcohol on his breath, or be angry and frustrated, spending hours ignoring his sons while he poured over musty old books, glass of amber liquid in hand.

Coming back to the present, he heard Penny through the thin wall, begin to cry. Unintentionally, he held his breath, body tense until the crying stopped. Angela had obviously soothed her back to sleep. Dean had actually enjoyed holding the tiny girl. It was embarrassing to admit, but he actually liked babies. Penny's big eyes staring up at him had reminded him so strongly of Sam. And her soft head of delicate auburn curls had smelled nice, like baby powder and something else specific to babies that Dean didn't have the words to describe. Shaking his head at his girly thoughts, Dean flopped over onto his stomach, determined to get some sleep.

xxxxxxx

The room was quiet and cool early next morning when Sam woke up. He glanced over at Dean who was still asleep in the other bed. Sam smiled, Dean's bed-head hair made him look like a fuzzy hedgehog. Sam was careful to be quiet as he made his way to the bathroom. Dean deserved to get some more sleep and Sam always liked to have the quiet of the early morning to himself when he could. He snagged a warm hoodie from Dean's duffle and some socks from his own and then settled on the small sofa. The book he had been reading last night before bed was still sitting on the arm, and Sam picked it up, intent on reading a few chapters before Dean woke up.

Rather than turn on the lights, he opened a small gap in the curtains that blocked the sliding door onto the room's tiny patio. It wasn't much of a patio. Really it was six cracked paving stones and a sagging wooden bench, but it had a view of the large open meadow that flanked the motel and the scrubby woods beyond. Sam was surprised to see Angela outside. She was sitting on a large log that had been set up. The teen had a couple of thick blankets wrapped around her and she held a steaming mug in her hand. Sam slid his feet into his sneakers, and with a quick glance to be sure Dean was still asleep, he crept out of the patio door into the frosty morning. He stepped over the salt line and carefully closed the slider so that the room would keep it's warmth for his sleeping brother.

The sound of his feet crunching the partially frozen grass must have alerted Angela because she looked up quickly, a swift flash of fear crossing her face. Sam stopped.

"Hi Angela," the youngster said. "Um, I saw you sitting out here and I thought I'd see how you were doing? " Sam felt self-conscious suddenly aware that he was wearing baggy sweat pants and a hoodie so big it practically hit his knees. He stuffed his hands into the sleeves of the sweatshirt, ready to head back to the room.

"Hi Sam," the girl said with a gentle smile. "Please, come sit and get warm, it's cold out here." Sam shyly sat beside her and she took a minute to fold the blankets over him too. The warmth felt good. Sam hadn't realized how cold it was until he was toasty under the blankets watching his breath frost in the air. Angela turned back to staring at the woods across from them and he followed her gaze. There was no traffic at this hour and the stillness was broken only by the occasional bird trilling to greet the morning. The sun was just starting to peek above the little forest, bathing the treetops in gold and bronze. The sky was a wash of pinks and oranges. Sam felt the calm of the sunrise steal over him. It was truly beautiful, giving Sam a feeling that he couldn't identify. It was like an odd combination of awe and longing deep in his stomach. He turned his head and saw that Angela had her eyes closed as the first rays touched her upturned face.

Sam realized that she was beautiful too. The golden light highlighted the red in her brown hair and made her skin glow. Angela must have felt his eyes on her, because she turned and looked at him. She smiled warmly and tucked the blanket closer around them both. Turning her face back to the light, she spoke, so softly that although he was right beside her, Sam had to listen carefully to catch her words.

"The sunrise has always been so special to me. When I was very small, our house had a big window that looked over the corn field. My Maman would hold me up in her arms and we would watch the sun wake up. She always told me it was magic, how the light could push the dark away. She said that so many days could be somber and rainy, but that even if we couldn't see it, the light was always there." The girl stopped speaking, her eyes sparkled with unshed tears and Sam was afraid that she would begin to cry. But Angela just took a sip from her mug and kept looking at the sunrise.

The longing from his gut surged into his chest. Sam didn't have any memories of his mother. Dean had told him a little bit when he was younger. Now that he was older, Sam could see the pain in Dean's eyes whenever he asked about Mom. And since he never wanted to cause Dean pain, Sam tended to keep his questions to himself. But Angela's memory brought questions to his mind. Even though he couldn't remember his mother, he liked to think of the smiling, blonde woman from the picture Dad had in his wallet. Sam wondered if Mom had liked sunrises. Did she cuddle Dean and talk about magic? Was she happy?

"My mother died when I was a baby." Sam hadn't meant to blurt that out. Generally he didn't tell anyone unless he had to. He didn't want to be treated differently, and there was enough about him that was different without people feeling sorry for him for having no mom. Sam half expected Angela to fuss over him with an expression of pity. But the older girl just sat there for a minute, then looked him in the eye.

"You know what my Maman also used to say?" she patted his arm underneath the blankets. "When someone loves you, they never really leave you." Angela seemed so sad, taking a deep breath. "I haven't seen my Maman since I was thirteen, but I know that her love for me is still in me - even if it's hard to remember it."

The sun fully crested the trees, beginning to burn off the thin layer of frost where the light hit the meadow. Sam pondered her words. He liked the idea that his mother was a part of him, despite his lack of memories. It made her feel closer and it made him happy. Sam also wondered why Angela hadn't seen her mother in so long, but, he didn't want to be tactless, or rude, so he kept that question to himself.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean was in that peaceful place between sleeping and waking. He was warm and comfortable under the scratchy motel comforter. Keeping his eyes closed, he nuzzled a little farther into the pillow wanting to prolong the moment. He'd been dreaming, although it had been a dream about a memory.

It had been Halloween. His Mom and Dad had been there and he had been a little boy again, excitedly showing his Dad his costume. Dean had been dressed as a fireman. He could feel the weight of his dad's old canvas jacket around his shoulders. Mom had added stripes of yellow reflective tape and a coil of old garden hose. Dad had his hands behind his back. "I've got the perfect thing," he'd said and presented Dean with a shiny red fireman's helmet. Dean had thrown himself onto Dad whose strong arms had squeezed him in a loving hug that smelled like Irish Spring soap and motor oil.

"Look Mommy," in his memory Dean had put on the hat and turned towards his mother who had baby Sammy in her lap.

"I see. You look very handsome sweetheart." Mom's smile had been bright and happy. Sammy had cooed and reached out for the shiny hat.

"Looks like Sammy wants to try it," Dad had laughed. His father had plucked the helmet from Dean's head and tenderly placed it on the baby's tiny head. Sam squealed with laughter. Then the little plastic hat had slid sideways and Sam got a puzzled, disgruntled look. Dean had giggled, and Mom had taken one look at Sammy and thrown back her blonde head in a peal of full bodied laughter.

Dean had drifted fully awake, the sound of his mother's laughter still ringing in his ears. A smile on his face, Dean grudgingly opened his eyes. He could see dust motes floating in a beam of sunlight that flared into the room through a gap in the curtains over the patio door. Dean's eyes immediately went to the other bed, fully expecting Sam's shaggy head to be either tucked into his pillow or bent over a book. Dean lurched upright. The other bed was empty. He quickly scanned the room. "Sam?," he called. The bathroom door was open and Dean couldn't hear the shower, so his brother wasn't there. He slid his hand back under his pillow, gripping the hilt of the knife he kept under there. Dean's heart was pounding as he swung his legs out of bed. Where was Sam? He shoved his bare feet into his boots and, knife in hand, double checked the bathroom. That's when he realized that the sliding door was open a crack, he could feel the cold air seeping into the room from the small opening. Dean shoved aside the curtains, and pulled open the heavy glass door.

"Sammy!" Dean's voice sounded slightly panicky even to himself as he scanned the area behind the building. Angela was sitting there in a pile of blankets and there beside her was Sam. The older Winchester quickly shoved the knife into the back of his pants, careful not to slice himself. Dean could only see the top of his head, but Sam pushed his way out of the blankets, stumbling out of the warm nest to where Dean could see all of him. Eyes checking Sam for injury and not finding any, Dean's heart settled back into a more normal rhythm. Reaching Sam, Dean crouched down and put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Sam, you scared the shit out of me! What the hell were you thinking sneaking out like that?" Despite his harsh words, Dean's grip wasn't rough. He was too relieved to find Sam to be that angry.

Sam hung his head, shame flooding his face. "I'm sorry Dean, I wasn't thinking. I saw Angela out here and I just wanted to make sure that she was OK." Dean stood up, and pulled Sam to him. He put his hand on the young boy's chest, holding Sam's body against his. Maybe he had overreacted a little bit, but Sam knew better than to leave their room without telling him.

Angela at this point had also extracted herself from the blankets. With a rueful smile at Sam, she turned to the older brother. "I thought Sam had told you where he was going. I'm sorry. We were just watching the sunrise. I'm sure he didn't mean to worry you." At that Sam shook his head. Dean sighed. It was hard to stay mad at Sam, but he was a little embarrassed to be having this family drama moment, standing in his pyjamas in front of a pretty girl.

"Yeah, he should have told me." Dean felt awkward. "So, uh, anyway, how are you feeling?

"Oh, much better," she hid her face shyly behind the blankets that were now draped over her arms. But despite that, Dean could still see the blush pink her cheeks. "Thank you for helping me yesterday, and for taking care of Penny." Her eyes darted towards the door to her room, the tiny figure in the crib just visible through the glass. "I'd better go, in case she wakes up," and with that she pushed open the slider and disappeared into her room.

Hand still on Sam's chest, Dean ushered his brother back into their room. He was chilled to the bone in the thin t-shirt and sweats he slept in. Sammy had on another layer, so hopefully he hadn't gotten too cold. With an easy shove, Dean pushed his brother towards the bathroom. "Go grab a shower and get warmed up. I'll make some breakfast." Sam gathered his bathroom things from his duffle. "And Sam," his little brother looked up, toothbrush in hand, "if you ever do that again, I will kick your scrawny ass into next week," Dean threatened fiercely. "You got me?"

Sam met his eyes, sincerity visible on his face. "Yeah, Dean. I really am sorry."

"Alright, get in there, and don't use up all the hot water, brat!" Dean snapped a clean t-shirt in Sam's direction. Sam giggled and hustled into the bathroom. Dean rolled his shoulders to release the last of the fear-based tension, then moved to the tiny kitchenette to get breakfast started.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning Dean woke before Sam. The two of them had spent the previous day reading, watching bad movies, and generally lounging around. Being Good Friday had meant that nothing was open. The cold weather meant that Dean hadn't wanted Sam to make the long trek into town anyway. But today was Saturday and their only chance to pick up some groceries they needed and get some laundry done.

Dean slid out of bed with a fond look at the tousled brown head in the other bed. Sam was snuggled in and snoring blissfully. Grabbing his workout clothes, Dean quickly used the bathroom, brushed his teeth and got dressed. He filled an empty soda bottle with water from the tap and laced up his running shoes. He quickly scrawled a note for Sam to let his brother know that he was headed out for a run. Dad expected at least 5 miles each day from both of the boys, but Dean felt that it was too much for Sam who was still so small for his age. Later, he'd put Sammy through his paces with some sparring and strength training, but for now he slid quietly out of the room.

Dean followed a path that cut through the meadow behind the motel, warming up with a moderate jog. It looked like he was following what had been a snowmobile trail during the winter. He headed for the small forested area. Dean generally disliked running, unless he was being chased by something he found it boring. At least having to pay attention to his footing in the underbrush would keep him alert. After a few minutes under the trees, he stopped to stretch his now warm muscles. The sun was up, but cast only pale beams that filtered between the tiny new buds on the treetops. The forest was dim and cool, but the above in the sunlight the birds were singing up a storm. Dad had checked out the area before he had left, so he felt pretty safe from anything larger than a squirrel. Dean started running in earnest, his feet pounding and his eyes automatically scanning both the path and his surroundings for obstacles. Running meant that Dean could let his mind wander and he found himself thinking about their new neighbours.

Angela was a mystery. He wondered what her story was. She seemed like she was terribly shy and naive, but her eyes had a familiar world weariness that Dean recognized from the mirror. Whatever had happened that brought her to Butler wasn't good. She was obviously running from something or someone. Sam certainly liked her. Dean smiled to think that his little brother might have his first crush on the pretty brunette. As he began looping around towards the motel, he puzzled about what she'd said to Sam when she'd first woken up the night they met. She had called him Daniel. Dean made a mental note to ask Angela about that if they saw her again. Which might not happen. People come and go from motels and there was no guarantee that Angela and Penny wouldn't move on before their paths crossed again.

When Dean was a kid, he had been intrigued by the people around his age that he'd met at the various low rent motels and crappy rentals Dad had left them in. Most kids had been travelling with parents, so Dean had avoided them for the most part. Dean had been fascinated by these glimpses into other families, so different from his own. But he quickly learned that there was no point in trying to make friends when he could be leaving on a moment's notice. And it was important to avoid parents who might ask questions about why he and Sammy were on their own. But occasionally he or Sam had made a connection with one of the kids passing through.

He remembered a little boy named Scotty about three years ago when they were in Georgia whose family was visiting for a grandmother's funeral. Scotty got left behind at the motel for most of their stay, in the care of a teenaged cousin. The motel had had a mostly functional playground, but no functioning air conditioning, so Dean and Sam had lounged outside as much as possible trying to catch a breeze. Scotty was a high energy kid, so the cousin essentially let the kid play while she stretched out in the shade and read a book. Sam had begged Dean to let him join Scotty. Eventually Dean had caved and supervised while the two kids ran around squealing with laughter. After a few hours, the two were inseparable in that easy way that children have of making friends. Sam had been resigned when Scotty's family packed up and went home, but he'd been quiet for the rest of their stay in Georgia.

Dean remembered with some chagrin about his own foolishness in getting attached. The motel du jour had been a real shithole with drug dealers and prostitutes all over the place. He'd barely let Sam look out the window much less go outside. But one day Dean had been getting some milk from the corner store when on the way back he'd stumbled upon a situation. He saw the kid who lived a few rooms down from where Sam and he were staying. The slender boy was trying to support the weight of an unconscious woman who Dean thought might be his mother. Dean knew he should mind his own business and just go back to his room, but something about the kid reminded Dean of Sammy. He helped drag Jason's mother back to the motel. He and Jason hit it off. They shared a passion for cars and classic rock and Jason never asked questions or said stuff in front of Sam. Jason's Mom was a drug addicted mess who threw him out of their room when she brought back fellow junkies or the men she would screw for drugs or money. So, Dean would lie to Sam and let Jason come in and sleep on their floor. Dad would have killed him if he'd ever found out, but it was nice to have someone other than his kid brother to talk to. Then one day, Jason's mother got arrested and social services came. He saw them loading his friend into a cop car and he spent the next few days in a barely controlled panic, waiting for the social workers to come for him and Sam. Dean had never been so glad to leave somewhere, even as he grieved for his friend.

Despite the cool morning, sweat was beginning to make Dean's shirt stick to his chest and back. He shook off the memories and checked his watch. He picked up his pace, wanting to get back to Sam before the kid woke up. Under the trees had been cool, but the meadow was a pretty sight, with grass just starting to green up for the Spring. Dean slowed down to a walk when he saw that Angela was sitting waiting for him. As he approached, she handed him his water bottle which he had left on the bench.

"Here, you look thirsty," the brunette said. She offered him his water with one hand, the other was wrapped firmly around Penny who she was bouncing delicately on her knee. The baby was bundled up in a puffy purple snowsuit. Dean took a couple of big gulps of water then sat down beside the two girls.

"Thanks," he said as he tightened the cap of the bottle. "How's she doing today?" Dean gently held Penny's little hand in his fingers as if he was shaking on a deal. Penny truly was a cute baby, soft auburn curls, big eyes that were still a dark blue, and lashes that seemed almost too big for her tiny face.

"We're doing good, thank you," Angela politely replied. The two teens sat in comfortable silence, both watching the bouncing baby who was staring at Dean. Penny reached out a chubby hand and tried to pull on the amulet that was resting on Dean's chest. Dean instinctively leaned back, moving his necklace out of range. Angela pulled a green and orange rattle out. She shook it at the baby who immediately turned towards the new toy instead. "Sorry, she's just learning to pick up things," Angela explained.

"She's so tiny. How old is she?," Dean asked. Penny seemed very small to Dean, but he really had no experience with babies aside from years ago with Sam. Maybe girls were always smaller.

"She's just 7 months now." Angela smiled at the little girl, but it never reached her eyes. In fact, the question seemed to make the teen girl uncomfortable. "She had a rough few weeks when she was first born." Angela bundled the baby close to her chest and stood. "On that note, I'd better go feed her." And with that she stepped away and into her room. Dean was a little surprised at her abrupt departure, but shrugged. If he had offended her, he didn't know how. Rubbing his arms, Dean also headed inside, the cool breeze freezing his damp shirt to his skin. He planned to jump in the shower and then make sure Sam was up and dressed and ready to go run their errands.


	6. Chapter 6

Angela stepped back into her room, Penny clutched tight to her chest. She could feel the heat rising up her cheeks. Dean's question had brought one of Angela's many fears to the forefront. She tried hard to make sure that Penny was eating properly, but was ashamed at how underdeveloped the baby was. She sighed softly pressing her face into the soft curls of the little girl in her arms. The first few weeks had been terrifying and hard. Her father wasn't exactly thrilled about the baby, but he'd picked up the formula she'd asked for. But no matter how often Angela fed her, Penny lost weight and didn't seem to gain any back. She' had been so worried that there was something seriously wrong with the tiny child, but her father had forbid her from taking Penny to the doctor. Eventually the baby started to eat and she was able to get a reasonable amount of formula into her. Ever so slowly, Penny gained weight although she was still under what she should be.

"Let's get you out of that snowsuit, Little One," Angela cooed at the baby. Laying her on the bed, Angela got her out of the warm purple outfit and then propped her up in a frame of pillows. Feeding Penny would be a lot easier with a high chair, but Angela had to make due for now until she could buy one. She set a pot of water on the stove to heat up. Once the water was steaming, she put a bottle of formula in to warm. Then she opened a jar of pureed peaches and with a small plastic spoon, sat Penny on her lap and patiently fed the little girl.

Angela had fuzzy memories of her mother feeding her little brother Daniel that way. Daniel was 3 years younger and Angela had been delighted in his funny expressions and sweet baby ways. She always wanted to help Maman, but it upset Father if too much attention was paid to the baby. So Angela would sit on Father's lap in the living room and watch Maman and Daniel through the folding door into the kitchen. It was a bittersweet memory. A fist of emotion lodged behind her sternum and Angela wiped her eyes on the shoulder of her sweatshirt as she fed Penny her bottle. She missed her mother and brother.

When she had first woken up the other night with Dean and then Sam leaning over her, she had first thought her brother had returned. On the surface, Sam looked so much like Daniel that her heart had stuttered with hope. But Daniel's face had been rounder, his hair had been darker and longer than Sam's, and Sam had a mole beside his nose. But Sam and Daniel both had the same kind nature, warm smile and eyes that sparkled with intelligence. Angela didn't know much about the brothers in the room next to hers, but instinctively she had been cautious. It was vital that she not be found. Still, she felt that Sam and Dean were not a threat to her and Penny, but perhaps had secrets of their own. She wanted to do something nice for the two boys. As she burped Penny and then laid her down for a nap Angela made a plan.

xxxxxx

"Is that too heavy for you?," Dean asked his little brother. Sam was carrying a backpack full of groceries. Dean had a large duffle of clean laundry slung over his shoulders and Sam had insisted on helping carry their purchases. But Dean was pretty sure that Sammy was just being tough because he had caught the kid stumbling more than once during the walk from the bus stop.

"Nope, I'm fine," said Sam, shifting the straps that were obviously digging into his shoulders. Dean rolled his eyes, but let it go. Sam could be stubborn as hell and they would be back at their room in a minute. Out of habit, Dean scanned the parking lot for the familiar black muscle car, but their end of the lot was empty as usual. Dad had left a bit more money than usual this time, but today's trip had dipped further into their cash than Dean had wanted. He figured if he were careful they could make it another week before things got tight. Sam's 11th birthday was less than four weeks away, so Dean hoped Dad would be back long before then. While he was away, Dad tended to call on Wednesday and Sunday. During tomorrow's call, Dean would casually remind Dad about Sammy's birthday. He knew better than to complain or to push Dad, but if he slipped it into the conversation, maybe it would have an effect.

Once they got back in the room, Dean put the groceries away while Sam sorted the clothes into piles for each of their duffles. They never bothered to unpack all the way. You never knew when Dad would show up and give them ten minutes to pack and get on the road. Sometimes they even had to shag ass to get out of town ahead of the cops. Hunting didn't usually come with thank you notes and cheques - more like broken bones and bad luck. Dean snorted at his own thought. Maybe he could find some work. He could easily pass for 16 and a few extra bucks would be helpful. Letting that idea ruminate, Dean got back to the task at hand, making dinner. He pulled out the stuff to make spaghetti. Luckily pasta was cheap and the ground beef had been on sale today. As he began working, he wondered what Angela was having for dinner tonight.

After dinner, the two boys hung out on the couch. Sam liked Blossom, but Dean thought Jane Seymour was hot for an old chick so he made Sam watch Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman. Despite the disagreements about the show, Dean liked hanging out with his kid brother. Being with Sammy made Dean feel important. The kid always acted like Dean was some kind of hero or something. It was good for his ego. And although he'd never admit it, Dean liked how Sam would lean up against him tucked under his arm like some little bird. His brother was already growing out of the easy affection he'd always shared, and Dean would miss it.

By 9:00, Sam was nodding off against him. "OK kiddo, time for bed." Dean shooed Sam into the bathroom to brush his teeth and get into his pyjamas.


	7. Chapter 7

"C'mon Sam, you can do better than that!" Dean had been teaching Sam how to break out of a headlock. The weather that had been unseasonably cool two days ago was warm and sunny, perfect for doing some training in the meadow behind the motel.

"I'm trying Dean!" Sam was frustrated. "I can't see what you're doing. Let me do the hold and I'll watch where you put your feet." Dean had to smile at the younger boy. Sammy always wanted to be perfect, but the reality was with the difference in size between the two brothers, it was unrealistic to expect Sam to be able to throw off Dean's hold.

"That's not gonna work Sam, you're too much shorter than me squirt." Dean reached out and ruffled Sam's hair, much to the kid's annoyance. The older brother considered whether there was some way to show Sam that would make sense. Not for the first time he wished Dad were here to coach. Actually, Dean retracted that wish. If Dad were here he'd be yelling at Sam and punishing him with extra push ups or laps around the field. Dad had very little patience with Sam, expecting the younger boy to be equal to Dean.

"I can help."

Dean whirled around to see Angela standing outside her room watching them. The sliding door was open behind her and he could see Penny in the crib, presumably asleep. Her long hair was in a ponytail and she was dressed in jeans, an over-sized sweatshirt and sneakers. She looked like any other regular teenager. Dean was embarrassed that she had been able to surprise him, so he was a bit snarky when he replied.

"Uh, I think we can handle it, thanks." Dean seriously doubted that he could explain why he was training his brother in self-defence if the girl asked, so he was ready to cut their session short and resume when they didn't have an audience.

Sam piped up. "Actually Dean that would be really helpful. Angela can put you in the headlock and I can see exactly what you're doing to break out of it." Sam's eager look was matched by the one on Angela's face. Dean chewed his lower lip. On one hand, he really did want Sam to learn this skill. The kid tended to get picked on at every new school they moved to. On the other hand, he didn't want to either hurt Angela or have her start to wonder too much about what they were doing. "Please," Sam coaxed. Dean caved, it was hard for him to deny Sam much, especially when he used those damn puppy-like eyes on him.

"Are you sure?," Dean asked Angela. "I don't want to hurt you." At that the girl smiled, and looked a bit sad but determined.

"Don't worry, I'm tougher than I look." She pushed up the sleeves of her sweatshirt, but seemed to immediately change her mind and push them down again. Turning to Dean she asked "What do you need me to do?"

Sam stepped in to answer instead. "Just go behind Dean and put him in a headlock." Sam backed away from his brother and gestured for Angela to get into position. She moved behind Dean who kept his hands by his side to look non-threatening. She was a little shorter than Dean, but the ground was just uneven enough that she ended up tall enough to reach. Tentatively she bent her arm around his neck.

"Ok, now grab your left elbow and put your left wrist behind my head. Then push back." Dean coached. "When you're ready I'm going to put my leg behind yours and bend over and around. Don't worry, I won't actually throw you." She did as he asked. Dean could feel her whole body pressed tight against his back and he could feel a slight blush begin to heat up his face. He shifted uncomfortably and quickly broke the awkward silence. "Ready? I'm going to do the move now."

Dean tucked his chin down and wrapped his hands around the slender arm around his neck. Then he stepped back, locking Angela's right leg into position with his own calf. Now the girl was off balance. Dean turned 180 degrees towards his extended leg and bent forward dragging Angela down towards the ground. He held her arms to stop her from actually touching the dirt and helped her back to her feet. Once she was steady, he turned towards Sam. "Did you get that Sam? You ready to try?"

"I see what you did now. Yup, I'm ready." Turning towards Angela who was self-consciously smoothing her hands down the front of her jeans, Sam asked "Will you do that for me?" The kid seemed so eager, that Dean held his breath for a second as they waited for Angela's response.

"Uh, sure." She stepped towards Sam and looked to Dean for instructions. As the older boy positioned her arms around Sam's neck to better replicate the hold she smiled. "Maybe once Sam's got it down, I could give it a try?," she asked hopefully, eyes cautiously meeting Dean's.

Dean thought for a second and couldn't come up with a reason to refuse. Teaching her this sort of stuff was only going to help the girl if she ever got into a situation where she needed it. But it also felt a little bit like he was tainting this nice girl with the ugly aspects of their lives. He shrugged, careful to keep his tone neutral. "Sure, if you want. We're just messing around anyway."

The three spent a good hour, out in the warm spring day. Sam was able to master the move, although he had more difficulty moving Dean's greater weight. Sam was too short to put the hold on Angela so Dean obliged. The girl picked up how to break the hold quickly, but wasn't able to move Dean. Still she seemed delighted and eager for more. So Dean also showed Angela how to break someone's grip on her wrist. It was a move Sam had learned years ago, but he seemed happy enough to review the technique.

"Ok Sammy, time for your run. Take the shorter path so I see you every loop. I want 3 miles, so get a move on." Dean good naturedly shoved the younger boy towards the running path and looked at his watch. Sam was pretty fast for a little kid, but it would still take him about 30 minutes to complete. Angela has stepped back into her room to check on Penny, so Dean sat on the log bench to enjoy the sunshine. Soon he was joined by Angela who was holding Penny in her arms and awkwardly had a couple of glasses in her hands. Dean jumped up and took the glasses.

"Thanks, I brought you some lemonade. I'll get some for Sam when he gets back." She took back one glass once she had the baby propped up on her lap. Dean was thirsty and quickly finished his glass, enjoying the tangy taste. Angela was struggling to hold Penny and her lemonade as the baby was fretful today.

"I can take her for a minute while you have your drink," Dean offered. Angela gratefully passed the little body to Dean and settled back on the bench. Today the baby was dressed in jeans with a green t-shirt that had a cartoon dinosaur on it. Over that Angela had put a fleece hoodie. All the clothes were a little too big for the tiny girl. She reminded him of Sam. For most of his life, his younger brother had ended up with Dean's hand me downs. Clothes seldom fit him right. With a soft chuckle, Dean carefully rolled up each sleeve so that Penny's hand we exposed. Penny was gabbling away making baba sounds. Dean responded automatically with a grin for the little girl. "That's right Penny, sheep say baa baa." He could feel Angela looking at him intently and tried not to feel embarrassed.

"You're so good with babies. Did you take care of Sam much when he was little?" The girl was probing, but Dean found he didn't mind. Maybe this was the opening he'd been looking for to ask about Daniel. Ignoring the compliment, he kept his eyes on Penny when he answered.

"Yeah, I've been taking care of Sammy since he was a baby." Now that he had started talking Dean found himself wanting to share more. "Our mom died when Sam was 6 months old and so it's just been our Dad and us ever since. Looking after Sam has always sort of been my job. I taught him to talk, and walk and read...although maybe I shouldn't have done that one." He laughed, but then paused. There was still a lot he didn't know about Angela. Perhaps he could do some probing of his own. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

Angela got a faraway look in her eyes. Dean thought that maybe she wasn't going to answer as they both watched Sam make his first pass through the sunshiny meadow. "Yes, I have a brother." She turned to look at Dean and he was surprised to see the sparkle of unshed tears in her eyes. "Daniel was born almost 4 years after me. I used to like to help Maman take care of him. When he got bigger we used to play together and I would teach him things. We lived out in the country and there weren't many children around, so Daniel was my best friend." Her voice trailed off and Dean noticed her use of the past tense.

"Where is Daniel now?," he asked gently, sure that he wasn't going to like the answer.

She shook her head, looking out into the meadow with unseeing eyes. "I don't know." Seeing his confused expression, she elaborated. "One day Father was very angry so Maman sent me to visit my Aunt Nadie. She was my Maman's best friend. When I got back home later that day Father told me that Maman had taken Daniel and left him. He went through the house and destroyed every photograph of her and Daniel." She swallowed and Dean was able to see the fear on her face that she tried to hide. "Father was very angry," she repeated, voice trailing off as she got lost in memories that were obviously unpleasant.

Dean watched Sam make another pass through the meadow. He couldn't imagine losing Sam. If his father had tried to take Sam away….well he swallowed a lump of emotion even thinking about it. The idea that Sam could be taken away from him was one of his greatest fears. Dean would do anything to prevent that. He turned towards the girl beside him. "I'm sorry Angela," he said softly. She gave him a quick smile of thanks. They both looked at the little girl who was still babbling happily in his lap. Angela reached out, and took Penny back into her arms. She smoothed the hood over the baby's head and dipped to plant a quick kiss on her chubby cheek.

"How old is Sam?," Angela asked. She looked towards the path into the wooded area that Sam had just ran into.

"He'll be 11 in a month or so," Dean said fondly, although still unsettled by the thought of losing Sammy. "He's a good kid, a pain in my ass sometimes, but a really good person." Dean glanced at Angela. She'd taken the elastic out and the sheet of brown hair was shielding her face. Penny was grabbing at chunks of it and trying to put the strands into her mouth. Angela laughed and stood with the baby.

"Well I think that's a sign that she's hungry, I'd better go feed her." She stood and Dean stood with her. He tucked the empty glasses into the crook of her arm and gave Penny's back a gentle rub. Angela's brown eyes sought out and held his green ones. "Thank you Dean," she said with her voice heavy with meaning. Embarrassed again, Dean broke eye contact to look at Sam who was walking across the meadow towards them.

"Thanks for the lemonade," he said. And with that she turned and returned to her room.

Dean walked over to meet Sam and slung his arm across the smaller boy's shoulders. "Good job Sam." The feeling of his little brother tucked under his arm helped loosen the knot of tension that had formed when Angela had been talking about Daniel. But it wouldn't do to let Sam know. With an exaggerated sniff, he made a face and waved his hand in front of his nose. "Urg, you stink. Time to hit the showers and I'll make you some lunch."

While Sam was getting cleaned up, Dean made some PB and J sandwiches, adding some carrot sticks to Sam's plate. Then he dug through the pockets of his jacket. Yesterday he'd bought a little something for Sam to celebrate Easter. The Winchester family didn't really do holidays, but the Valentine's stuff had been 80% off so Dean had picked up a fancy foil wrapped solid chocolate heart for Sam. He was originally planning on making some kind of gross werewolf reference, or maybe even taping the chocolate to a drawing of an eviscerated Easter Bunny, but instead Dean just put it beside Sam's plate. Maybe he was feeling just a little bit sappy at the moment.

Dean and Sam spent the afternoon eating chocolate, watching TV and goofing around. It was the type of casual day that doesn't seem very important, but today Dean was keenly aware of just how easily his brother could be taken from him. It hurt to imagine what life would be like if suddenly Sam disappeared and he never saw his kid brother again. He looked over at Sam who was sitting beside him on the lumpy couch. Reaching out impulsively, he ran a hand over Sam's hair, resting his palm against the back of Sam's neck. His brother leaned into the touch and turned to offer him a dimpled smile before going back to watching the TV.


	8. Chapter 8

Later, after dinner, Sam drifted off into a book while Dean washed up the few dishes that had collected in the sink. Dean had just dried off his last plate and put it away when there was a knock on the door. He froze, his eyes going to the night table where their gun was stored. A knock on the door was never good news. He slid across the bed to grab the gun and tuck it into his waistband. He carefully smoothed the back of his shirt over the bulge and looked towards his younger brother. Sam knew the drill, he was already on his feet waiting for Dean's instructions.

"Sam, go into the bathroom OK?," Dean said quietly, tossing Sam his sneakers. Sam looked slightly panicked, so Dean tried to give him a reassuring smile, but his face felt tense so it likely came out as a grimace. "It'll be fine, just go." Turning back towards the room's entrance, Dean heard the quiet click of the bathroom door closing behind him. Heart pounding, he stepped forward and peered through the tiny peep hole. He caught a glimpse of Angela's face. Surprised, he cracked the door open a bit. Looking left and right, Dean confirmed that the only one outside was the teen girl. "Angela! What are you doing here?," he barked. He cursed inwardly, his anxiety made his question sound a lot harsher than he had intended.

Angela took a small step back. She had a slightly hurt and frightened look on her face, but she answered him anyway. "Um, Hi Dean. I just wanted to bring these to you and Sam." With that she uncovered something in her hands that had been draped in a tea towel. It was a plate of cookies. Instantly the smell of warm chocolate wafted into Dean's nostrils. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply the heavenly smell. "If you want them…" she continued in a small voice, obviously puzzled by his outburst.

"Oh, uh, of course. Those look delicious, thanks. Sorry for that," he waved his hand vaguely to encompass the awkwardness. "You just kinda startled me." Dean pasted a smile on his face, feeling foolish. He opened the door a little wider and said impulsively, "Did you wanna come in?" Dad would kill him if he knew that Dean was letting anyone into their room, but Dean was a little out of his element here and the offer was out before his brain could stop his mouth. Angela's expression showed her confusion, but she quickly smiled back at him and pushed the plate of cookies at his chest.

"Thanks, but I have to get back to Penny. She's asleep, but I shouldn't leave her alone. Uh...thanks for today," and with that the girl spun on her heel and darted back into her room. Dean stood there for a minute, the plate in his hands. He scanned the parking lot to see if anyone had been around to witness the strange encounter, but their end of the parking lot was deserted. Dean closed the door with his shoulder, and put the plate on the counter. He checked that the salt line was intact and then locked the door securely. Grabbing a warm cookie, he walked back to the bathroom and knocked.

"Hey Sammy, you can come out now. It was just Angela." Dean bit into the cookie and moaned with satisfaction. This was the best thing he ever remembered eating. "Dude, she brought homemade cookies." He said the last word in a sing song voice, slightly muffled by the half chewed cookie in his mouth. The door clicked open and Sam looked at him suspiciously as if the he didn't quite believe his older brother. Dean stuffed the remainder of his cookie into his mouth and smiled at Sam, cheeks full. Sam toed his shoes off and put them back by his bed, then he followed his nose to the counter where the plate of sweet goodness was sitting. He sniffed appreciatively and then took a small bite of one of the cookies. Dean just watched, both amused and mildly offended that Sam was so suspicious. When Sam's eyes fluttered closed in delight, he nudged the younger boy with his elbow. "Good huh!"

"Oh, yeah," Sam practically moaned and Dean laughed.

"Do you need some alone time with your cookie?," he teased. He laughed harder when a blush rose on Sammy's cheeks.

"Dude, gross!"

Still laughing Dean went to the fridge and poured them each a glass of milk. He'd have to be careful that they had enough for cereal this week, but cookies this good demanded a cold glass of milk to go with them. The two boys sat at the table and determinedly finished a couple more cookies each. Reluctantly Dean wrapped the plate up. "If you eat any more, you're going to get a stomach ache." Sam looked like he was about to protest, but just then the phone rang one time. Dean glanced at his watch. It was likely Dad. He waited for the phone to ring again while Sam rinsed their glasses and washed his hands.

"Hello?"

"Dean, it's Dad." John Winchester's rich baritone rumbled across the phone line. He sounded tired, but otherwise normal.

"Hey Dad. How's the hunt going?," Dean asked. The familiar feeling of being pulled in two directions settled back into Dean's gut. Maybe if he was with his father, then his Dad wouldn't be so tired. Hunting tired was a good way to get hurt. But when Dad had told him to stay with Sammy, Dean had been pleased because he hated leaving Sam alone. When he and Dad left the youngest member of their family all by himself in some random motel room, Dean spent the whole time he was away, worrying about his brother.

"I've caught wind of a poltergeist, so I'm headed over to Knoxville in the morning. Are you boys Ok?"

"Yes sir," Dean said. There would have to be something pretty serious going on for him to give any other answer. Dad had work to do, he didn't have time for the little day to day worries.

"You doing Ok for money Dean?," Dad asked. "The room is paid up for the month."

"Yes sir, it's just…" now that the opening had arrived, Dean felt uncomfortable mentioning it.

"Spit it out Dean," Dad sighed and Dean immediately felt bad.

"It's nothing, just...Sammy's birthday is coming up in a few weeks. But you'll be back by then, right? " Dean couldn't help the hopeful tone that crept into his voice. As much as he enjoyed taking care of his kid brother and spending time with Sam, they missed Dad. Dean liked it best when his family was all together.

"Dean," his father sighed again and Dean could almost see the older man scrubb his hand across his stubbled face. "That's a ways from now. I'm sure I won't be more than a couple of weeks, OK?" Dad wasn't really looking for agreement, but Dean nodded anyway even knowing that his father couldn't see him. "Let me talk to Sam," Dad said.

Holding the receiver towards his brother, Dean said "Dad wants to talk to you." Sam jumped up and rushed over to the phone.

"Yeah Dad," the youngest Winchester said breathlessly. Dean could only stand and listen to Sam's side of the conversation. "Uh huh, Yes sir, we sparred earlier today and Dean showed me how to break a choke hold." Sam's tone was proud, happy to share his success. "Angela helped." Dean frantically waved at Sam to signal that he shouldn't mention their new neighbour, but it was too late. Sam looked panicked. "Uh, she's just a girl from the room next door." "Yes sir." "Yes sir." "I understand." With each response Sam got more and more dejected, like a balloon that was being slowly deflated. The kid closed his eyes with a pinched look on his face and held out the receiver. "Dad wants to talk to you again." As Dean reluctantly took the phone back, Sam mouthed "Sorry" and then went to sit on the side of his bed, head hanging and face obscured by his shaggy hair.

"Hey Dad," Dean swallowed anxiously, his mouth suddenly.

"Who is this girl Dean?," Dad sounded angry.

"Nobody, just a girl who is staying next door." Dean knew he sounded nervous.

"Why was she helping with Sam's training?" Dad's tone suggested that there was no acceptable answer.

"She came outside while I was showing him how to break out of the choke hold. It was no big deal, she was just a third for a few minutes so that Sam could see the technique. It really was no big deal," he repeated.

"Dean, I expect better from you. What if she told her parents that you were showing self defense moves to your little brother? What if they got curious and called Social Services? Do you want to lose your brother?" Dad was pissed and Dean scrambled to reassure his father.

"There are no parents, it's just her and Penny." Dean could have kicked himself for mentioning the baby. Why didn't he keep his mouth shut and just let Dad yell at him. He knew what his father's reaction would be.

"Who is Penny? How old is this girl? What the hell is going on, Dean!" Judging from the rustling sounds from Dad's end of the phone, the eldest hunter was pacing. Dean groaned silently but knew he had no choice but to answer their father.

"Angela is a little older than me. She's on her own except for her baby, Penny. Nothing's going on Sir, I swear. She just helped a bit today - that's all." Dean certainly wasn't going to tell his father how he had broken into the room next door and met the two girls. He didn't have a death wish. He held his breath when he heard his father sigh again.

"Dean," Dad's tone was more patient than he expected. "We talked about this son. Girls who get pregnant are nothing but trouble. If she's on her own, then she's probably been thrown out by her parents and is looking for someone to take care of her and the baby."

"Dad…" Dean began to try and explain, but his father cut him off.

"I'm sure that this Angela person is pretty and uh,...willing." Dean cringed at the implication. "But Dean, you need to use your brain and keep your libido in check." Dad paused, but Dean knew he was simply gearing up for his next statement. "Now listen to me, and listen good. You and Sam are not to have anything to do with this girl again. Am I clear?" Dad was using his commanding officer voice, the one that brooked no disagreement. There was only one acceptable answer to his question.

"Yes Sir."

"Good. I expect you to be more responsible Dean. Your priority should be Sam. Don't let some pretty girl rope you into her problems." Dean felt his cheeks flush. He wanted to argue with his father and explain that it wasn't like that, but he knew it was pointless. Dad tended to see what he expected to see.

"Yes Sir."

"Alright." Now that Dad had issued his orders, his mind had obviously moved on to other things. "I've gotta go, take care of your brother and I'll call you on Wednesday."

"OK. Bye Dad," and with that the line disconnected. Dean hung up the receiver, his movements slow and deliberate. Sam looked up at him with a pained expression.

"I'm so sorry Dean. Was it bad?" Dean could see the guilt practically oozing out of Sam's pores. But really it wasn't the kid's fault. He never thought to remind Sam to keep their fledgling friendship with the girl next door to themselves. The remaining taste of cookie seemed to change to ash on his tongue.

"Nah, it'll be OK Sam. But Dad told us that we can't have anything to do with Angela or Penny again." Dean's chest felt heavy and Sam's face fell, obviously upset at the idea of having to cut their new friend out of their lives. He hated the idea of Sammy being sad. Not knowing what else to do, Dean focused on the moment. "C'mon kiddo, go get ready for bed. Maybe I'll make pancakes in the morning OK?" He really wanted to see Sam bounce back from the disappointment they both shared. Sam nodded and got his pyjamas from his bag, but he wasn't able to completely hide the tears that welled in his eyes before he closed the bathroom door behind him. Dean sighed and sank down onto the bed. Sometimes life sucked.


	9. Chapter 9

"Dean, come on….we're going to be late!" Sam was standing by the door giving Dean a bitchy look. Damn that kid loved school. It was barely 8:00 am and Sam would get there in plenty of time. Dean grabbed his bag and took a quick scan of their room. Everything was tidy, the only thing out of place was the now empty plate that Angela had brought the cookies on. He had felt his gut churn as he had packed the last two cookies in Sam's lunch earlier. Angela had been nothing but nice to them, and Dad had basically called her a slut. This was one of the rare times when Dean felt that Dad was wrong. He wasn't usually so torn about following Dad's orders.

Yesterday had been rainy and cold again, so Dean had kept Sam inside. In part so that he'd stay warm and dry and, if he was honest with himself, because he didn't know yet what he would do if they ran into Angela and Penny. They had watched TV, played cards and generally annoyed each other the way only two brothers cooped up together on a rainy day could. At one point they could hear Angela through the thin wall. She was singing, presumably to the baby. They couldn't make out the words, but it had made Dean sad. Sam wasn't much younger than Penny, the last time he'd heard their mother sing and he certainly didn't remember it. Dean had pushed down those feelings, the ones that bubbled up every time he thought about their mom. Instead, he had Sam tackle some extra homework and Dean had spent a solid hour focusing on getting a perfect edge on his favourite knife.

"Deeeeeaaaaaan," Sam whined from the door and Dean snapped back to the present.

"Geez Sammy, keep your pants on," and with that Dean pulled up the hood on Sam's jacket, shoved the kid out of the room and locked up behind them.

For the next few days the weather stayed wet. On Wednesday night, Dean confirmed for Dad that neither he nor Sam had so much as spoken to Angela.

"Good Dean, now that she realizes that she can't manipulate you, she'll move on to someone else," Dad had said, then tasked him with some research. Dean knew deep down that Dad was wrong about Angela, but there didn't seem to be any point it getting into it with him. Especially because other than hearing Penny cry occasionally, the room next door was quiet.

xxxxxxx

The next day, the wind was blowing across the high school football field hard enough to rattle the bolts that held together the bleachers. Dean hunkered down into the warmth of his leather jacket and tried to ignore the cold tips of his ears. As was his usual practice, he'd skipped the cafeteria and come out here. On the days he had a lunch to eat, a crowded, noisy room set his teeth on edge. On days when he didn't have anything to eat, Dean didn't see any point in torturing himself with the sights and smells of other people's food. At this school most people hung out in the quad after they had eaten, which is why Dean made his way to the more deserted bleachers. Today, Dean was scanning the folded up newspaper he'd swiped from the teacher's lounge looking for any place that was hiring. With Dad still gone, Dean wanted to find a way to make some money for food, and to buy Sammy some new shoes. The kid had made due with his old ones, but they were worn out. Dean had patched them from the inside with some duct tape, but Sam really needed some new ones. And with his brother's birthday coming up, he wanted to be able to get Sam something.

He heard the squeak and clunk of someone climbing towards him and glanced up. Erica Hillson was walking towards him. He sighed to himself then pasted on his usual cocky grin. Erica was probably the hottest girl in school and he had spent a few lunch hours getting warm with her under the bleachers.

"Hey Dean," she said, shaking her blond curls. She sat close beside him and peered at the paper in his hands. "Whatcha reading?" He quickly folded up the news paper and shoved it into his pocket. She smiled at him and leaned a little closer as if she was about to share a secret. "If you're looking for a job, my Dad is hiring. He runs the feed and seed store and just last night he was bugging my brother about working for him. Apparently the spring rush is about to begin and he's short handed." She stopped talking when she realized that Dean was actually listening. She licked her lips. "If you want, I can talk to my Dad...if you want," she repeated a little breathlessly.

"Sweetheart, that would be awesome," Dean gave her his most blinding smile and leaning in so that their lips were only inches apart. "You know what else would be awesome?," he asked, his voice low and silky. Erica seemed to have forgotten how to breath because Dean could almost feel her heartbeat pounding underneath the pink fuzzy jacket she was wearing. He leaned forward and kissed her, one hand reaching up to her shoulder, holding her in place. The girl melted into him, and he put his other hand on the back of her neck underneath the golden curls. He kissed her for a few minutes, then had to hold her arm when he pulled back so that she wouldn't fall over.

"Let me know tomorrow what your Dad says," Dean whispered by her ear. Then he got to his feet and made his way gracefully down the bleachers, leaving the slightly stunned girl sitting in the wind. A manual labour job at a garden store sounded like a lot of work, but it would be worth it if he could keep Sam's belly full and his feet dry. He touched his lips. Normally Dean would have been more than happy to skip class in order to make out with the hottest girl in school. Hell, he certainly had in the past. But this time he felt uncomfortable. Maybe it was the thought of the teen mother living next door? Certainly Dad would kill him if he got some girl pregnant, but he had never really thought about the girl's side. Did Angela's parents really throw her out when she got pregnant? As he had been kissing Erica all he could think about were his suspicions about Angela. He shrugged, maybe it was because Erica had just mentioned her father before they kissed? Regardless, he was excited at the lead on a job, and so he shoved his other thoughts to the back of his mind and made his way to his post-lunch classroom.

xxxxxx

Erica had talked to her dad, and Dean was set to start at Hillson's Feed and Seed on Monday after school. For the rest of the week, Dean followed the usual weekday routine he tried to establish with Sam. Making meals, watching Sam do his homework and natter on about school, getting his training in and making sure that Sam did the same, and shooing his brother to bed at a reasonable hour. Dean killed the appropriate number of hours in school and got to the library to read through a mind-numbing amount of microfiched old newspapers for his Dad. It wasn't until Friday evening that he thought much of Angela.


	10. Chapter 10

Dean was standing in the cereal aisle trying to figure out if they had the money in his pocket could stretch enough to get the Lucky Charms, or if they'd have to make do with generic puffed wheat. Sam was bored, reading the labels on all the boxes and sticking close to Dean. The older boy had to acknowledge that grocery shopping wasn't a fun way to spend Friday night. They were already in town after a stint in the local library for Dad and it wasn't worth the bus fare to make an extra trip on the weekend. Besides, on Friday nights the store was pretty quiet which meant they could get done and back to the motel sooner. Sam huffed a weary sigh as he was dragging his fingers over the multi-coloured boxes of instant oatmeal. Finally Dean took pity on his kid brother.

"Sam, why don't you go grab the peanut butter and I'll meet you there after I get some milk " Dean figured this errand would burn off a little of Sam's energy. He had to chuckle as Sam burst into a grin and darted off. Feeling in good spirits, he put the magically delicious cereal into his hand basket and went to pick up the milk. With a jug of 2% in hand, Dean headed towards aisle 5 where the peanut butter was shelved. As he got closer, he heard the excited murmur of a group of people. Glancing down aisle 6 he stopped. There was a small knot of shoppers, carts askew across the aisle staring at the floor. Dean bent to see what they were looking at and recognized Sam's shaggy head.

"Sammy!," Dean called as he jogged over and pushed through the crowd. Sam was crouched down looking between two large displays of soda and snacks. The kid looked up at Dean when he heard his name.

"Dean," he said quietly, "it's Angela." Sam pointed between the displays. Ignoring the babble of the strangers who formed a loose ring behind them, Dean sunk to his knees beside his brother and peered into the gloomy recess.

At first he couldn't see anything, then he realized that the shadow was actually a curtain of dark hair. Angela was clutching Penny to her body, her hair draped across them both as she tried to make them both impossibly smaller. Dean could see the girl literally trembling with fear. Penny turned her head to look at Dean, and her chubby hands reached out to him.

"Ok, ok sweetheart, it's gonna be Ok," Dean cooed at the baby. Putting a hand on Sam's shoulder, he pushed himself to his feet and turned on the gathered shoppers.

"Hey, don't you have some shopping to do? Show's over folks, get lost." The venom in Dean's tone caused several people to turn and leave. One grouchy looking lady scuttled backwards with a horrified look on her face. "That's right lady, clutch your pearls and leave!" Dean glared at her until she left.

The crowd now dispersed, Dean crouched down again and spoke in his most soothing tone. "Hey Angela, it's Dean and Sam. It's gonna be Ok. Can you come out from there for me?" He kept talking in that soft mellow voice until Angela un-scrunched her eyes and looked into his. "That a girl, good girl," he praised. "Why don't you pass me the baby and we'll help you out from there." Dean waited patiently to see if Angela would respond.

Ever so slowly the terrified girl seemed to sense that the brothers were there to help. She extended her arms and passed Penny to Dean who cuddled the surprisingly calm infant. But then Angela seemed frozen, unable to move any further. Her breathing was coming in strangled gasps and her brown eyes were huge with fear. Sam wiggled in front of his brother on his knees, blocking most of the opening. He cautiously extended his hand and touched Angela's arm. She flinched, but turned her head to lock eyes with Sam. Dean, seeing the success the younger boy was having, started coaching again. "That's it Angela. Sammy and I've got you. You can come out now, it's safe. We're not going to let anyone hurt you. Just take Sam's hand." Her shaking hand moved ever so slightly towards Sam's and with tiny movements, he gently gripped her hand. "Don't pull Sam, just let her come to you," Dean said in an undertone, determined to not force the obviously panicked girl. He held Penny close and she started to babble happily, waving her chubby arms at her mother.

Angela seemed to have heard Penny. Although her eyes never left Sam, her head turned towards the baby's gurgles. With a sudden lurch, she moved forward a few inches. Sam carefully gripped her other arm and with the barest of strength, tugged her until she made another move. One more and she was almost at the opening. "Good girl Angela, we've got you. You're doing so good. We've got you." Dean's voice was low and calming, almost as if he was simply having a conversation, instead of coaxing a freaked teenager out of a cave of soda. Angela swayed on her knees, weak and disoriented, and closed her eyes. Sam shuffled a bit closer and wrapped one skinny arm around Angela to hold her up. Dean reached out and took one of her hands. He pressed it against his chest, beside Penny. "OK, you've gotta breath Angela. C'mon, you can do it. Breathe like me." He took exaggerated deep breaths, purposely slowing down his inhale and exhale as Angela struggled to calm herself. Sam breathed along with them using his own body pressed against her side as an example.

After a few minutes, her trembling stopped and she could breath a little more easily. Her eyes moved from Penny to Dean to Sam. "I'm sorry…" she stuttered, worn out and teary eyed from her panic. Angela pushed up from the floor, but would have fallen if Sam hadn't had an arm around her. He directed her towards a nearby shopping cart. Judging by the diapers and formula, it was hers. She gripped the handle with both hands and Dean slipped a foot behind the wheel to keep it from moving as she leaned on it for support. "I'm sorry," she repeated. She tossed her long hair back and pushed a few stray strands from her damp, sweaty face.

"Hey," Dean said, still in a gentle tone, "if you're finished here, why don't we all go back to the motel together." Angela nodded gratefully and slowly began to push the cart towards the front of the store. Sam put the peanut butter into their basket and picked it up. Dean grabbed the jug of milk from the floor where he'd left it and the small group made their way to the cashier.

Angela seemed to fold into herself under the curious stare of the cashier, so Sam loaded her groceries onto the conveyor belt. But Angela picked up the basket Sam had been carrying and added their groceries. "No, Angela. I got it," Dean said, shuffling Penny to his other arm so that he could get his wallet. Angela simply shot him a weak but defiant glare and ignored him. Turning to Sam, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a quarter.

"Sam, could you please go to that payphone by the door and call us a cab?"

"Look, you don't have to do this," Dean said, embarrassed and slightly annoyed. "I can pay for our own groceries, and Sam and I can take the bus." The cashier's head swiveled from one teen to the other, engrossed in the drama playing out in front of her. Noticing the audience, Angela leaned closer to Dean.

"Please let me," she said, her exhausted voice pleading, "I'm gonna need your help." She hung her head, her cheeks colouring slightly.

Dean sighed, all his anger fading away. He nodded to Sam who ran to the phone. He knew exactly what his groceries would cost and he would find a way to pay her back for them and half the cost of the cab ride some time later. But for now, she was right, there was no way she could manage Penny, plus the groceries in her exhausted state. Ducking down he forced her to meet his eyes.

"Fine, but I'm paying you back," he conceded somewhat grumpily.

The cabbie gave the small group a sour look when he got there, but he helped them load their groceries into the car. Dean chewed his lip during the short ride back to the motel and came to a conclusion. Screw Dad. His father didn't know anything about Angela. With that jump off the cliff made, Dean quickly made a few other decisions. He wasn't comfortable with leaving Angela alone. Who knew what brought on the panic attack she'd had at the store, but she was in no shape to take care of Penny. Tonight, the two girls were staying with them. If he was going to take them under his protection, it would be far easier to do it from their room. With his plan formed, he gave Sam a reassuring smile. Sammy's eyes were still like round saucers in his face. Dean snaked a hand across the seat and squeezed his neck in a familiar gesture of comfort. Everything was going to be OK.


	11. Chapter 11

Angela's head was swimming, she was so exhausted. Her whole body felt weak. She was deeply embarrassed but grateful that it had been Sam and Dean who had found her at the store. She was just lucky that no good Samaritan had called the police or ambulance. She couldn't afford to be found and her stupid panic attack could have ruined everything. She leaned limply against Sam during the cab ride and drew comfort from his warmth, confident that Dean had Penny. What was she going to do?

The cab turned into the motel parking lot and she pulled a small fold of bills from her pocket. She was too drained to concentrate on the American money right now, so with a shaky hand she simply pushed them towards Dean. If she had any energy, she would have marveled at how Dean seemed so confident. She was sure that he was younger than she was, but he seemed to always know what to do about everything, for Sam, for Penny, heck, even for her. But all she wanted to do was sleep. She groaned silently when she realized that she had to put away the groceries and feed, bathe and put Penny to bed before she could go to sleep herself.

In a haze of tiredness she let Sam guide her inside the brothers' room. He helped her sit on one of the beds, then lie back before helping her to lift her feet up. The movement from vertical to horizontal was too much and she felt herself slipping into sleep. Her final thought was a prayer that she truly could trust these two boys, and then she was out.

xxxxxx

Sam ran back out to help Dean who had paid the cabbie and was trying to pick up all the groceries with one arm while still holding Penny with the other. Loading his arms full, he followed his big brother back into their room where Angela was sprawled on Dean's bed.

"Sam, could you please check Angela's pocket for her room key? We're going to need a few things for Penny from their room." Dean's back was to him as he gently lowered Penny onto the other bed. He rearranged the pillows so that Penny couldn't roll off and then turned back to look at Sam.

"Hey kiddo, are you alright?," Dean said. Now that they were safe in their room, Sam took a second to actually consider how he felt. He was still a little scared, frightened by whatever Angela had been going through. And worried, Angela looked so worn out. He was also shocked that Dean would defy their father and bring the girls into their room. That was breaking not only Dad's command that they have nothing to do with Angela and Penny, but also about half a dozen of his other strict standing orders. Sam was also hungry, tired and overwhelmed. It had been a long day. But he was a Winchester and he could suck it up to do what needed to be done.

"Yeah, I guess so," Sam said although he was embarrassed to find that his voice had a small tremor in it and his lip was quivering like it usually did when he was trying not to cry. His eyes darted to the sleeping girl.

"Hey, it's gonna be OK. You're fine, Angela's fine. She just wore herself out with a panic attack. We're just going to get a few things, make something to eat, and have a quiet night OK?" Dean was using his calm tone again. Sam didn't really want to be a baby about this, he was going to be 11 in a few weeks. Hell, he could shoot a gun and knew how to kill ghosts. But when Dean put a hand on his shoulder, Sam couldn't help himself. He flung both arms around his big brother and buried his face in Dean's warm flannel. Sam soaked in the comfort as Dean smoothed a hand over his hair and rubbed his back for a minute. Dean was the only one who could make Sam feel safe like this, so he gave himself a moment in Dean's arms to pull himself together. Then tilting his head to look up at Dean, he forced a small smile, took a breath, squared his shoulders and stepped back out of Dean's embrace. "There you go Sammy," Dean said encouragingly.

Sam went to Angela and slipped a hand into her jacket pocket. He felt a little weird, but he trusted Dean. His brother was putting away the groceries, both the ones for them and those that Angela bought. Dean was carefully keeping everything separate. When he brought his brother Angela's room key, Dean ruffled his hair and shot him a grin. "Keep an eye on Penny for me. Make sure she doesn't roll over. I'll be back in a couple of minutes." With that Dean stepped outside.

Alone in the quiet room, the enormity of what was happening hit Sam. There was a teenage girl asleep on Dean's bed, there was a 7 month old baby sucking her fist on his bed, and he and Dean had defied Dad's direct orders. Suddenly Sam started to laugh. He slapped his hand over his mouth so that he wouldn't disturb Angela, but he couldn't help it. Penny heard him and started her own laughter. Sam knelt by the bed, looking down at the little girl. She reached for his nose with her drool covered hand and laughed her own baby giggle at his instant recoil. He leaned over and blew a gentle raspberry against her little tummy. Maybe this was what Dean had done to him when he was a baby. Between that thought and Penny's laughter, Sam felt a warm glow of happiness.

xxxxxxx

Dean looked to make sure that the parking lot was empty before he used Angela's key. Once inside he stopped and looked around. The room was scrupulously clean, the bed was made and there was nothing out of place. Angela was sure a strange girl. He felt uncomfortable in her room without permission, but necessity demanded it. Grabbing Penny's diaper bag that was resting by the folding crib, he moved to the kitchenette. Opening the fridge, Dean put the prepared bottles of formula into the bag. Then he went to the dresser and opened the top drawer. This was where Angela stored Penny's clothes so Dean selected a green and pink onesie, a cosy looking mini sweatshirt and a few other things for the baby. Checking the bag, there were already diapers, wipes and powder. That would get them through the night.

Opening the next drawer he found what had to be Angela's clothes. The girl had even fewer items than Dean did, but he grabbed a pair of jeans and the grey striped sweatshirt Angela had been wearing the night they met. He hesitated when he saw the small stack of neatly folded underwear. Without looking too closely, he grabbed a pair and quickly shoved them in with the other things. Socks were easier and he added a pair to the bag. Dean realized that Angela would need something to sleep in. Nothing in the drawer looked anything like pyjamas, so Dean scanned the nightable and bed.

Sticking out from beneath the pillow was something that looked like flannel. He carefully lifted the pillow and found a soft, long sleeve t-shirt and some flannel pants. Dean added them to the bag. Under the pillow was also what looked like a well used diary. On impulse Dean went to add it to the bag when a pen fell out of the crease of the journal and onto the floor. The pen rolled under the bed, so he got down on his knees to get it. Peering into the dim space under the mattress, Dean saw the pen, and just beyond it, a leather satchel. He pulled this strange sack towards himself so that he could take a closer look.

He felt like this was strangely out of place in the room and debated whether opening the bag was an invasion of privacy. With a snick, he unzipped the bag to look inside. Dean's jaw dropped open. Inside the bag were bundles of money. He picked one up and flipped the end with his thumb. The bills were mixed, mostly twenties and tens, but some fives too. At first Dean wondered if he had found the forgotten loot from a bank robbery, but the bills were all well used and bundled with elastic bands. Some of the bundles were stacked while others were rolled. After some quick math, Dean figured there was at least $10,000 in the bag.

What was going on? Why did Angela have so much cash? Suddenly Dean felt a lot less comfortable leaving Sam alone with the girl. His mind racing, he zipped the bag back up and pushed it back to where he had found it.

Eager to get back to his own room and think things through, he made a quick trip into the bathroom to get Angela's bag of toiletries. He also picked up a couple of clean towels, the baby shampoo and a fluffy towel with a little hood that looked like a duck for Penny's bath. Anything else they needed, Dean could just come back and get, so turning off the lights, he locked the door behind him.

Letting himself in their own room, Dean pushed thoughts about the bag of money to the back of his mind. It would have to wait. Right now he had stuff to do. Sam was kneeling over Penny making funny faces and shaking his shaggy head of hair at her. The baby was laughing, drool pouring down her little face. Dean put the full diaper bag down on the bed and got a couple of facecloths from the bathroom. With one eye on his brother and the baby, he soaked one with water and then put it on a plate in the freezer. The other he dampened with warm water and brought over to the bed. Knowing the motel towels were far from soft, he gently wiped Penny's face. The little girl squirmed and tried to shove her toes into her mouth.

"Look Sammy, I think she's hungry," Dean said. "Do you wanna feed her some while I heat up a bottle for her?" Sam nodded but Dean recognized that his brother was a little apprehensive. "Don't worry, I'll show you how. Go wash your hands and then sit at the table." With that Sam scampered into the bathroom and Dean went to the stove and put a pot of water on to heat. He put the other bottle into the fridge. Then he dug out the plastic baby spoon from Angela's bag and picked a jar of baby food. Sam was settled at his chair at the little table. Dean opened the jar and left it with Sam.

"Ok squirt, I'm gonna go get Penny, you ready?" Dean had to chuckle at how excited Sam was. The older boy first got a bib from the bag and then secured it around Penny's neck. Then he picked up the little girl and carried her over to Sam. Snagging the second chair with his foot, he pulled it close and then settled Penny on his lap facing Sam. Sam dipped the spoon into the jar of pureed carrots and brought it toward the little girl's lips. Both boys laughed when she opened her mouth to smack her lips around the spoon. Some of the food dribbled out as she worked it around with her mouth. Dean looked fondly at his little brother. Sam was totally focused on what he was doing, he had his tongue between his teeth and his forehead was scrunched in concentration. Dean couldn't help flashing back to memories of when the younger boy was tiny and he had helped Dad feed baby Sammy.

"Geez, was I that messy," Sam asked as he got splattered with carrot goop when Penny blew a raspberry. Dean laughed.

"You were worse. You always wanted to hold the spoon and you would spray food everywhere by flailing your chubby little arms." Dean had some fond memories of sharing a bath with baby Sammy, both covered in food but grinning ear to ear. They fed the little girl her bottle, then Dean burped her, and took her into the bathroom to get cleaned up. He gave the baby a careful bath, keeping a firm grip on her. When he was younger, it was easier to just climb into the tub with Sammy when he was a baby, but he made due leaning over the tub on his knees. Once she was clean and warm and dressed in the fresh onesie, he took Penny back to the couch where Sam was watching TV. Sam held her while Dean made them some sandwiches for dinner. He wrapped a couple up for Angela when she woke up, then joined his brother and claimed the baby.

Once he was settled on the couch, the little girl warm and soft against his chest, he felt Sam move closer. Lately Dad had declared Sam too old to cuddle, but the younger boy leaned up against Dean and tucked himself close. Dean wrapped one arm around his brother, enjoying the rare moment of contentment. With a glance at the older girl who was still sleeping, Sam asked quietly "What happened with Angela at the store? Why was she so freaked out?"

Dean didn't have an answer, although he had been wondering himself. Angela seemed different from every other girl he had ever met a weird combination of oddly formal and stiff, but also warm and fragile. And Dean knew that there was something going on with the girl. Having a baby, the missing Mom and brother, a massive panic attack, the bag of money. Logic told him that he shouldn't trust the sleeping girl, but his gut told him that somehow she wasn't a threat and that she needed help. "I really don't know Sam," he replied honestly. "But when she wakes up, don't bug her about it OK?"


	12. Chapter 12

Angela woke up slowly, as if she was swimming through cotton. Her head was pounding. She was almost surprised to realize that although she still felt weak, she wasn't in pain. Running a mental inventory, she discovered nothing broken, bruised or bleeding. She was lying on a soft bed, but the pillow beneath her head smelled faintly of leather and shampoo. Amazed at being comfortable, she stayed still, relishing the unfamiliar feeling of safety that filled her heart. After a couple of minutes drifting in the hazy space between awake and asleep, she heard voices she recognized as belonging to Sam and Dean.

"What happened with Angela at the store? Why was she so freaked out?," Sam had asked his brother. Angela felt her body tense as the memory of what had caused her panic attack flooded into her brain. Angela had been holding Penny, and considering the cans of Pringles.

"Hey Little One, do you think your Maman would like sour cream and onion chips?," Angela cooed nonsense to the little girl in her arms. Penny giggled and waved her hands at the display. "Oh, you think I should get the cheddar flavoured ones huh?" Angela bounced the smiling baby. She felt a presence beside her and glanced at the person who had approached from the right. A large man was standing there picking up a case of Coke. He had on a black leather jacket with studs on the side, black jeans and brown work boots. His hair was brown and tied back into a ponytail. Angela could see the ink of a tattoo on his neck. Her heart stopped. Father had found her!

His head was turned away from her, so she dropped to her knees and crawled behind a display. Her heart was pounding. What if he saw her? She knew that Father would kill her and worse kill Penny. She gripped the baby to her and pushed herself farther into the dark crevice. Angela held her breath, trying to make herself smaller. She had to protect Penny. She closed her eyes and prayed. "Please don't let him see me, please don't let him see me," she mouthed, trying not to make a sound. Hot tears leaked down her cheeks. Angela couldn't breathe. She opened her mouth but couldn't seem to get enough air. Terrified that he would hear her gasp, she tried to get some oxygen, but her muscles were locked with fear. She curled herself around Penny and prayed that her daughter wouldn't die today.

Father had killed Mathieu, and he was going to kill Penny. Angela didn't care anymore what happened to her, but she was desperate to protect the tiny body in her arms. She would rather die herself then let Father hurt Penny. Angela huddled in the dark and prayed to God, Maman and Daniel to save her and her daughter.

At that point Angela heard someone softly say her name. She risked a quick peek through the strands of her hair and saw Daniel peering in at her. It was a miracle. Her brother was there and speaking to her. Angela closed her eyes and thanked God for saving her and Penny.

Her hands were clenched in the sheets beneath her and Angela forced herself from the memory. She knew now that the man hadn't been her Father, just someone who looked like him. And it had been Sam, not Daniel who has spoken to her in her panic. But it was still a miracle that she had found friends, these boys who had showed her so much kindness. A few tears slipped from her eyes and dampened the pillow. "Thank you Maman for Sam and Dean," she prayed silently. The night she had met them, she was tempted to give up. To give in to all the fear and shame and worry, and just drift back peacefully into darkness. But these boys had saved her then too. Seeing how Dean behaved with Sam, reminded Angela that her daughter needed her. She wasn't going to let her little girl grow up without a mother. So no matter how tempting it was to go back to sleep and let try and forget, instead she steeled herself to meet the questioning eyes of the two brothers.

Pushing herself up to sit on the edge of the bed, she looked over to the side of the room. Dean was leaning back on the couch watching TV with the volume down low. Penny was cushioned against his chest with a sleepy smile, her head nuzzled up under his chin as he held one hand on her back to support her. Sam was leaning into Dean's side, tucked under his brother's other arm which was curled around Sam protectively. A pang of longing rushed through Angela. They looked so content, like the little family she longed for. She wanted to spend a lazy evening watching TV with her mother and Daniel and Penny all together. But it was not to be. She sighed, and wiped away another tear. The slight noise must have alerted Dean who turned his head to look at her. His green eyes met her brown ones from across the room.

"Hey Angela," Dean said softly to avoid waking Penny. "How are you feeling?" Sam sat up and made room for Dean to climb to his feet. The older boy walked closer and held the sleepy baby out to her. "She's been fed and we gave her a bath," he said as he placed Penny in her arms.

"Thank you," Angela said, ducking her head to hide the tears that still swam in her eyes. But she knew Dean had seen the wetness on her cheeks. The older boy sat down beside her and she drew strength from Dean's wordless support. Sam came and sat on her other side, leaning in close to watch as Penny closed her eyes. Angela knew that these two brothers had their own problems, but for now she let herself feel warm and safe and cared for. Maybe they weren't her family, but for now, she could pretend that they were.

After a few more moments, Dean cleared his throat and got to his feet. "I made you a sandwich if you want it?," he asked carefully, obviously trying to judge her mood. She forced a smile and a nod. Laying Penny onto the bed, she moves some pillows to stop her from rolling off and then came to join Dean and Sam at the little kitchen table. Dean put a glass of water and a sandwich front of her and then both boys sat down to watch her eat it. Angela realized that she was actually hungry, so she ate the sandwich while she tried to gather her thoughts. After she'd eaten all but a few bites, she took a sip of water and looked up at Sam and Dean.

"I'm sorry about tonight," she began. "I thought I saw my Father in the store and...," she faltered, trying to get across how terrified she had been without saying too much. "I ran away from him, and I was afraid that he had found me," she finished, realizing that it was a fairly lame explanation for her extreme reaction. "He gets really angry sometimes." That was an understatement. Father was a violent man, who had an extreme rage that could be triggered by any perceived imperfection or disobedience.

"Our Dad gets mad sometimes too," said Sam. Dean shot his brother a scowl of disapproval that Sam ignored. "Dad has a lot of rules that he can be pretty intense about." Sam felt that was a fair way to describe Dad. He knew that Dad loved him and Dean, but it could be hard to feel it. Dad's rules were there to keep them safe, but if you screwed up, there were consequences that seemed more extreme than the infraction.

"Dad's just trying to keep us safe," Dean said with emphasis, giving his brother an intense look of his own. "But Dad loves us." This last was said with a certainty that made Angela jealous. Dean changed the subject, seemingly embarrassed to admit to being loved. "Anyway, when you're finished your sandwich, I brought you a few things from your room. I hope you don't mind, but I thought you could maybe stay here tonight until you felt better. That way we can help you with Penny."

Angela smiled at him around the last mouthful of sandwich. She was used to being alone, and in fact was glad to have escaped her father's presence, but she was finding it lonely and scary sleeping in her motel room with no one but Penny for company. "Thank you," she said again when she had swallowed.

They spent the rest of the evening piled on the couch, watching TV, not talking much, but enjoying each other's company. At bedtime, it was a bit awkward taking turns in the bathroom, each of them trying to be casual yet highly aware of the strange situation. Sam went first and once he was in bed Dean went back to watching the TV on low to give Angela the illusion of privacy as she went in to brush her teeth and get changed.

Angela stood in front of the crappy mirror and inspected herself in her pyjamas. The long sleeve shirt hid the scars on her arms and body and was thick enough that she was completely covered. She wrapped her arms across her small bust. The last thing she wanted to do was draw any attention of a sexual nature. Dean had been nothing but kind and respectful, but Angela had learned that men could turn on a dime and was a little nervous. Would he expect her to have sex with him? Surely with Sam in the room, he wouldn't. She felt her anxiety build and waited as long as she felt she could before leaving the relative privacy of the bathroom.

She stepped back into the main room and climbed into the empty bed across from Sam. She climbed under the blanket, wrapped an arm around her sleeping daughter and tried to relax. Angela knew that if Dean joined her in bed, that she owed him for everything he had done for her. She would submit, but she held onto the fragile hope that he wouldn't expect much from her. Lying there, the tension grew when Dean turned off the TV and the lamp. Dean checked the doors and windows, then went into the bathroom.


	13. Chapter 13

After he brushed his teeth Dean examined himself in the mirror. His t-shirt and sweatpants were worn, but he was well covered. He didn't want Angela to see any of the bigger scars on his body that he had accumulated over the last few years from hunting with Dad. More importantly, he didn't want to make Angela uncomfortable. Obviously, the girl wasn't a virgin, Penny was proof of that, but the last thing he wanted to do was to have her think he wanted something sexual from her. Despite what Dad thought, Dean knew that there was no way that Angela was a slut. She did nothing to draw attention to her body, or to flirt. In fact, compared to some of the girls at school who had made sure that he knew that they were more than willing, she was practically a nun. Besides, Dean felt a fierce need to protect these two girls who had fallen into his life. He'd only known them a short while, but Angela and Penny were beginning to feel like family, like sisters or something. Dean had to laugh at himself for thinking such a sappy thought. Dad and Sam were his family. He shook his head and slipped out of the bathroom, leaving the light on and the door cracked the way Sammy liked.

Standing in the darkened room, Dean didn't want to wake the baby, so with a stealth he had trained his whole life for, he stepped towards the bed with the two sleeping girls. Hovering his hand over Penny's tummy, he checked to make sure that she was warm enough and breathing fine. He moved Angela's blanket a little to make sure it didn't block Penny's face, and pulled it up a little higher over the older girl's shoulder. Then he made his way around to the other side of Sam's bed, pulled back the covers and slid in next to his brother's warm body. Sam simply snuggled up against Dean like a puppy, too asleep to be his usual independent self. Dean wrapped an arm around his kid and let himself begin to drift off. In the next bed, he heard Angela sigh contentedly and settle down deeper into the bed. He listened to the three other people breath and marveled at how pleasant a sound it was. That was his last thought as sleep dragged him under.

The thin cry of a baby woke Dean some time later. He wriggled out from underneath Sam who had turned towards him and was partially draped over Dean. Then he slid out of the bed to go around and get the baby. The light from the bathroom illuminated a portion of the bed. He could see Penny fitfully crying, likely from a wet diaper. As he picked up the little girl, the light fell on Angela. She had turned over in the night and her shirt had ridden up, exposing a swath of her back. There were a number of scars criss-crossing her skin, showing as white lines. The lines were even more evident over an area around Angela's ribs where her pale skin was darkened with a large bruise. Tucking the blanket around the sleeping girl, he brought the baby to the couch where he swiftly and efficiently changed her diaper. Once she was dry, Dean walked around, soothing Penny back to sleep.

The baby might be settling, but Dean was wide awake and wondering at the marks he had seen on Angela's back. He was no expert, but he was pretty sure that some of the marks he'd seen were from being whipped. He had helped his Dad with a case earlier this year where he'd seen similar marks on the back of a fellow hunter. The man had been in the military like his Dad before joining the hunting life. The Hunter had delighted in bragging about all his scars and had told Dean that he'd been whipped with an electrical cord during a session of torture when he'd be captured by the enemy during his army days. The big man had laughed at Dean's shudder of revulsion, "Kid, never forget that humans are the worst sort of monster." Dad had changed the topic quickly back to the hunt at hand, but the Hunter's words had made an impression, and Dean had been even more worried than usual at leaving Sam alone in a hotel room for that week.

Penny was asleep now, so he carefully placed her back beside Angela. Dean climbed back into bed with Sam. He was trying to put together the puzzle that was Angela. Every time he thought he had a handle on who she was and what her story might be, another wrinkle was added. He'd thought she was simply a girl who had gotten pregnant and run away from parents who were ashamed of her. But that didn't explain the scar, or the panic attack, or the strange way she looked at Sam, as if he was her long lost brother Daniel. Dean knew he needed to rest, so he pushed his musings aside and tried to fall back to sleep.

xxxxxxx

Sam could tell it was early, before dawn even, and he wasn't sure what had woken him up. It might have been because he was too warm. During the night he had moved towards Dean and was now snuggled tight against his brother's back. That was embarrassing, after all, he wasn't a kid anymore. He wiggled away from Dean a little bit, turning his face towards the other bed. He expected to see Angela asleep, but her eyes were open and in the sliver of light from the bathroom, she was watching him with a pensive look on her face. Careful to not wake Penny, she shoved herself up to lean against the headboard.

"Hi," he whispered, not wanting to wake Dean.

"Hi Sam," she whispered back.

They each simply laid there, sharing a comfortable silence. It was dim, quiet and peaceful.

"Can I ask you something Sam?," she seemed hesitant, but Sam nodded, waiting patiently for her question. "What is your father like?"

Sam thought about how to describe Dad. "Um, our Dad has dark brown hair and brown eyes. He's tall, which I hope means that I'm going to get taller too. Dad used to be a Marine, so he's got a really loud voice and orders us around a lot." Sam frowned wanting to say something nice about Dad too. "Um, people have told us that Dad is handsome - I don't know, but sometimes, when he laughs, his eyes crinkle and sparkle. He has a nice smile - I like it when he smiles. But, Dad works a lot, so he's always tired….and sad." Sam was running out of safe things to tell Angela, but he felt the need to somehow explain his mixed review of Dad. "Dean remembers that before our Mom died that Dad used to have fun and play with him, but Dad's different now. He can be really intense, but I know that he loves us," Sam finished lamely, feeling like he hadn't really captured the complexities of John Winchester.

He wanted to tell Angela some of the other things, like how Dad would wink at him, or ruffle his hair, or put a hand on his shoulder and pull him close when they when to a new place. Or how it felt, when they arrived at a new motel really late at night, and Dad would scoop Sam up and carry him into the room from the car. Or even how, when Dad was driving and he thought that Dean and Sam were asleep, he would sing along softly with the radio, his voice rumbling in harmony with the engine. But those things seemed too precious and private to share, even here in the dark.

Angela seemed to be absorbing what he had said, because she was very quiet for a few minutes. Sam wondered if she had fallen back asleep, but when he looked over, she was looking at him again.

"Does your father ever…hurt you," she asking in a small voice that barely carried from the other bed.

"No," Sam said emphatically. "Dad would never hurt us. Sometimes he can seem mean, but he is only trying to protect us and teach us." Sam rolled over onto his side to face her, head resting on his bent arm. Something about her question made him wonder. "Angela," he asked gently, "does your Dad ever hurt you?"

She turned away to stare at the ceiling. At first Sam thought she wasn't going to answer, but when she did her voice was thick. "Yes Sam, he does." A tear caught the light and sparkled as it rolled down her cheek. Sam didn't know what to say. He felt so bad for her and so guilty. Sure, sometimes he was mad at Dad, for being gone so much or for how he would make them move so often, but he knew in his bones that their father would never hurt him. Seeing Angela cry so silently made Sam feel like crying too. He slid out of bed and climbed up beside her, careful to not jostle the sleeping baby. Sam couldn't think of anything to say, his heart ached for her, so he just sat up next to her, offering what comfort he could by being close. She tensed at first, but then leaned just her head against his slim shoulder. They sat like that for a long time, her tears making a wet spot on his t-shirt.


	14. Chapter 14

The weekend passed. Sam did his homework and trained with Dean, Angela moved back to her room, and everything went back to their version of normal. The only difference was that Angela had invited them both over for dinner Sunday night. Dean had been unable to resist saying yes, swayed by the memory of her cookies. If they were anything to go by, Angela knew how to cook. So Dean had gotten cleaned up, and made Sam put on his newest jeans and comb his hair. The two of them, looking their best, went next door. When Angela opened the door, Penny on her hip, an amazing smell wafted from the room.

"Oh my God, that smells good," Dean enthused, sniffing like a hound looking to catch a scent. Angela laughed and handed him the baby.

"Good, it's supposed to," she said as she hustled them both into the room. "Come in and sit down."

Obediently Sam sat at the table, the memory of his conversation with Angela making him feel a bit shy. But Dean stood behind her with Penny, lurking over her in the tiny kitchen area trying to to see what she was doing. Every time she would move, he would gracefully keep behind her, like a playful dance. Finally she laughed and handed him Penny's bottle, shooing Dean away with instructions to feed the little girl. Sam's eyes were drawn to Angela. He had never heard her laugh before. It was a light, silvery sound. He realized that her face was usually a little pinched with sadness, because when she laughed, her face relaxed and she looked totally different. Tonight she had her long hair in a braid that hung down her back like a thick rope, and to Sam she seemed younger, although he realized that he really didn't know how old she was.

Watching Angela made Sam think about what it would be like if they had had a sister. Dean was about four and half years older than him and for the first time he wondered why his parents had waited so long after Dean to have another baby. Sam was curious, but knew he could never ask his Dad. Instead he asked the other question he'd been thinking about.

"How old are you Angela?" A flash of discomfort moved across Angela's face and Sam worried that he had offended her. But she turned to look at him, oven mitts on her hands and responded.

"I'll be 17 at the end of the month," she said with a sad smile that made her face pinch back to normal.

Dean's back had been towards Angela as he fed the baby while sitting at the end of the bed. So his brother didn't see the look or the smile. "What date?," asked Dean. "Sam's birthday is May 2nd."

"My birthday is April 30th," she said. Angela lifted the lid of a pot on the stove and ducked away from the steam. Even Sam had to admit that the smells in the room were wonderful and that he was excited to have a home cooked meal. Their host put a cutting board with a couple of loaves of golden brown freshly baked bread on the table. She then added a large bowl of mashed potatoes and then carried the pot from the stove and put it on a folded up towel which acted like a trivet. "It's ready," she said making sure that the oven and burner were off.

Dean put Penny into her crib where she could see the table. He washed his hands at the kitchen sink then sat while Angela did the same. Once they were all seated, Sam got shy again. Suddenly this meal seemed so formal, very different from the meals that Dean made or the diners that Dad tended to take them to. Sam was a little surprised when Angela reached out a hand on each side, palm up. "Shall I say grace?" she looked at them expectantly. Sam took her hand and reached out to his brother. Dean seemed uncomfortable, but shrugged and took her other hand and Sam's. Angela bowed her head so Sam followed suit.

"Bless us O Lord for these thy gifts which we are about to receive. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen." The prayer was short, and Sam murmured along with Angela's amen. Dean had kept silent and dropped their hands as soon as she was finished. If Angela noticed, she didn't say anything, just began to ladle out dinner onto their plates.

"This is a meatball stew. My Maman showed me how to make this when I was young. Usually she would add a pork knuckle," she smiled at Sam's alarmed face, "but don't worry, I couldn't find one at the store." Dean had picked up his fork and taken a bite.

"Mmmmm, I don't care what's in here, this is awesome," Dean said. Sam had to laugh, Dean really loved food and he ate as if he was going to explode with pleasure when he really liked something. Sam could tell that Dean was trying to contain his moan of delight. He picked up his own fork and took a bite of the stew. It was rich and meaty with a slightly sweet undertone. Sam let his eyes close as he savoured the taste.

The table was silent as the boys ate with an appetite they both would have been embarrassed to admit. Angela cut them each a thick slice of warm bread and added a coat of butter. Sam saw that she didn't eat very much herself, but seemed to enjoy watching them. "Save room for pie," she cautioned even as she served Dean a second helping.

"Pie?" Dean's eyes lit up. Sam had to smile again. He could count on one hand the few things that Dean loved more that pie.

"Yup, I made a sugar pie," she said, almost beaming with pleasure and Deans enthusiastic groan. "Did you ever try it before?" Dean admitted that he had but Sam shook his head. "It's very sweet, but so satisfying," Angela responded, turning back to her own meal.

Now that the edge was off his hunger, Sam's brain turned back to his questions. "How did you learn to make all this," Sam asked, his mouth still a bit full of stew. A shadow seemed to cross Angela's face.

"My Maman taught me everything. She was busy with Daniel and would tell me what to do while I did the cooking." Angela didn't mention the times that Maman was too sore or bruised to stand at the stove. Or the time her mother's arm had been broken. "Father expected dinner to be ready when he got home, so we spent most afternoons baking and cooking." Sam noticed that her voice had a faint tremble in it as Angela spoke about her father.

"Didn't you go to school," asked Dean, his green eyes catching the sad look on Angela's face and the secretive look on Sam's. Sam knew that Dean had picked up on his guilty vibe and the subtle change of mood around the table. Angela picked at her slice of bread, breaking off little pieces with her fingers and rolling them into tiny balls.

"No, Father didn't want me to go to school, so Maman taught me to read and write at home." Angela stood abruptly and brought her empty plate to the counter. She picked up the pie and when she turned around Sam saw that although she was smiling, it didn't reach her eyes which were still sad. "So, who wants some pie," she asked, effectively changing the topic.

After dinner, and much praise of her cooking, Dean excused them. He told Angela it's because they had school the next day, but Sam knew it was really to be back in their room for Dad's call. Angela insisted on sending them back with lots of leftovers including at least half of the pie. They said goodnight to the two girls and went back to their own room. Sam sprawled on the sofa, his stomach almost swollen he was so full. He watched as Dean put away the leftovers and puttered around the kitchenette. Waiting for Dad to call always made Dean a little agitated, but tonight his brother seemed more anxious than usual. Dean couldn't seem to sit still.


	15. Chapter 15

Dean wiped down the small square of counter space, even though he knew he had cleaned it earlier that evening. He needed something to do with his hands as his brain fit together more pieces of the puzzle surrounding their neighbour. Angela was almost 17, but that meant that she had to have been still four months from 16 when she got pregnant. Dean had always assumed that there had been a boyfriend who had fathered Penny, then broke Angela's heart. But if she was home schooled, where would she have met a boyfriend? She had told Sam that she lived in the country, so it was possible it had been some local boy. Dean thought back to Angela's panic attack when she had seen someone who looked like her father.

"Sam, has Angela ever told you much about her father?," Dean asked joining Sam on the couch where the kid was sprawled. Dean saw Sam stiffen at his question and knew that Sam knowledge to share.

"Uh….what do you mean," the kid stalled. Dean caught his brother's eye and held it. This was serious and he needed to know what Sam knew.

"Sammy," he growled with his sternest big brother look. He knew that Sam had caved when his kid sighed and sat up and pulled his knees to his chest protectively.

"She asked me to tell her about Dad. So I told her a little bit about him," at Dean's dark look, Sam rushed to explain. "Nothing important, I'm not stupid, just what he looked like and that he loves us." Dean waited impatiently for Sam to continue. "Then she asked if Dad ever hurt me and I told her that he would never hurt us." Dean kept his face placid, it was better that Sammy never knew about some things. His brother continued. "I asked her if her Dad ever hurt her and she cried, and said that he did."

"She said that her father hurt her?," Dean asked, wanting to be sure he understood.

"Yes," Sam whispered, his shaggy hair shadowing his downcast eyes. "I felt bad, but I didn't know what to say, so I just sat with her." Dean could tell that this confession had stirred his little brother's innate compassion. The kid had such a big heart. He put a hand on Sam's bended knees and gave a little squeeze.

"That was nice of you Sam." He hoped that Sam was still too innocent to think what Dean was thinking. Just then the phone rang once, then stopped. Then just like usual, rang again after a couple of minutes. Dean walked over to grab it.

"Hey Dad," he said. Dad talked for a while about the hunt he had been on. Dean tried to listen but he was distracted. The sound of his Dad's voice was always a comfort, but he had to wonder what it would be like to live in fear of his father. Dad could be tough. And if Dean was 100% truthful, his father could sometimes be cruel in an effort to toughen Dean up, or to teach him an important skill or lesson, but never in a way that made Dean truly afraid of his Dad.

"Dean, are listening to me," Dad barked over the phone.

"Yes sir," Dean responded automatically. He had actually lost track of the conversation, but he snapped his mind back to focus on Dad's words.

"So, I'm going to head to Jasper, Alabama to help out Caleb. This job is gonna take a couple of weeks, Dean. Are you and Sam going be OK?," Dad asked. Dean knew that the last of their money was going to run out long before that, but he also knew that Dad didn't want to hear it. Besides, he had a job lined up to start tomorrow that would help.

"Sure Dad, we'll be fine," he lied. They wouldn't be fine, but he'd figure something out, just like he always did.

"I'll be back for Sammy's birthday," his Dad promised. Dean knew that was a lie too. Promises were like glass, easily broken and they cut just as deep if you held on to them. He'd learned not to put too much stock into the kind of promises Dad tossed around. Sammy, however still wanted to believe so badly. Dad asked to speak to Sam, and even as he handed the receiver to his brother, Dean hoped Dad wouldn't lie to Sammy too. It was one thing to have Sam disappointed when their father failed to show, it was another thing altogether when the kid was full of flimsy promises and false hope. And it broke Dean's heart to try and put his brother back together again after Dad let them down.

Once Sam hung up, Dean hustled his brother into the shower. "Go get ready for bed and we'll play some cards for awhile OK?" Sam did as he was told disappearing into the bathroom, leaving Dean sitting on the bed, pondering the nature of broken promises and flawed fathers.

xxxxxxx

The bus pulled up to the side of the road and Dean grabbed his bag. He'd worked his first shift slinging bags of dirt, mulch and manure. His whole shift he had worried about Sam. When he'd told his brother that, because of this job, that Dean wouldn't be able to pick him up from school, Sam had seemed excited. "Sure Dean, not a problem. I can take the bus from school to the motel by myself, I'm not a baby!," he'd said. Dean had tried his best to let the kid have this bit of independence, but Sammy was still such a small kid, that it was hard for Dean not to worry. Sam was smart, but in many ways still very naive. Stepping off the bus, the only thing he wanted more than a shower, was to see Sam and make sure his brother was safe and sound.

He unlocked the motel room door, and pushed it open, immediately scanning the room for Sam. Although there was a lamp on by the couch, and Sam's school bag was sitting on his chair at the table, the younger boy was nowhere to be found.

"Sammy?," Dean called. Maybe Sam was in the bathroom. He pushed on the partially closed door, but the small bath was empty. Dean's heart started to pound and he forced himself to look around the room more carefully. Obviously Sam had made it back to the motel since his bag was here. Dean checked the slider door. There were no signs of forced entry or a struggle, even the salt lines were intact. Glancing at the beds, Dean saw a piece of note paper resting on his pillow. He walked over and picked up the lined paper. In Sam's curvy handwriting he read, "Dean, everything is fine. Angela invited me over to make some cookies. Come over when you get here and you can have some. Sam."

There was a quickly drawn round thing that Dean presumed was meant to be a cookie, and a smiley face at the bottom of the note. Even though he was a little annoyed that Sam had broken the rules and left the room without him, Dean had to chuckle a bit at the childish art work. Well, if Sam was with Angela then he had time for a quick shower. He certainly didn't want to go next door smelling of manure. Dean carefully peeled off his jacket and left it by the door where it could air out a bit, then stripped out of the rest of his clothes and tossed them into a plastic bag before polluting the whole laundry duffle with the stink. He jumped in the shower and let the hot water wash away the filth and the soreness in his muscles. By the time he was re-dressed, he felt halfway human again and the lure of fresh cookies made his stomach growl. Key in his pocket, he stepped outside and knocked on Angela's door.


	16. Chapter 16

Sam flung the door open, "Dean!," he yelped excitedly. Sam grabbed his sleeve and pulled Dean into the fantastic smelling room. "We made chocolate chip cookies and Angela made ravioli - from scratch," Sam said, his voice full of awe as if Angela had hung the moon. The girl in question laughed at Sam's enthusiasm. But she shyly caught Dean's eye with a questioning look.

"I hope you don't mind that Sam came over here. I saw him get off the bus by himself and I was worried," she said. "Then I figured I could put him to work helping me make dinner." Her tone was neutral, but Dean could tell that she was a bit nervous that he would be angry with her.

"Well, Sam is supposed to stay in our room when I'm not there." Dean shot a dark glance at Sam who had the decency to look at least a little guilty. "But if he was helpful, then I guess it's Ok." Dean had to hide his smile at Sam's expression. His kid was practically beaming, back to being excited now that he knew that Dean wasn't going to be mad at him.

"OK," Angela said. "You must be hungry since I'm guessing you didn't have any dinner yet?" As she spoke, she reached into the oven with a mitt clad hand and pulled out a dish and put it on the table, where one place was set. Sam dragged Dean by his sleeve over to the table and practically pushed him into the chair. Then he perched in another one, eyes expectantly on Dean, his small body practically vibrating with anticipation. Lifting the lid off the dish, Angela handed him a spoon. "Help yourself Dean."

The dish was full of pillowy ravioli in a slightly creamy red sauce. Dean scooped some onto his plate and picked up his fork. Sam was staring at him, and even Angela was surreptitiously watching his reaction as he took his first bite. Amused at all the attention, Dean blew on his fork, then put it into his mouth. He'd had had ravioli tonnes of times out of a can, and at diners around the country, but this was incredible, something so far beyond those previous experiences that it seemed like a different meal. The pasta was soft, but slightly chewy, the filling was creamy and rich and the sauce was a little spicy and fruity. It was heaven in his mouth and Dean had to groan as he chewed. He forked another ravioli into his mouth and, talking with his mouth full moaned "This is so good."

Sam laughed, seemingly delighted at his reaction, and Angela smiled indulgently at both of the boys. She put a slice of warm garlic bread and a glass of milk at Dean's place, then sat down to join them as he ate. His brother began to chatter on about some big tunnel in Europe that was going to open next month and Dean let his mind wander. He was eating delicious homemade food, Sammy was close by, clearly content, a nice girl sat comfortably across from him, the baby was making cute gabbling noises from her crib nearby. Suddenly Dean realized with wonder, that he felt happy in a way he hadn't experienced in a very long time. This little scene reminded him of the few memories he had of his happy family before the fire. His emotions surged and he felt the pull of tears behind his eyes. He faked a second of choking and took a swallow of milk, hiding behind the glass so that he could get himself under control. This felt like family, and that scared him. Neither Sam nor Angela seemed to notice his change of mood, so he plastered a smile on his face and tried to focus on his dinner and Sam's description of the engineering marvel going on in the English Channel.

After dinner, Sam volunteered to help wash the dishes while Dean ate a couple of Angela's amazing cookies. Angela was kneeling on the floor of the bathroom, giving Penny a bath. Dean leaned on the door frame, watching. Angela had put a towel in the bottom of the tub and filled it with enough lukewarm water to cover Penny's chubby legs. She held the little girl with one hand while she washed with the other. Penny just sat there, already getting mellow and sleepy.

"When Sammy was that age, Dad would have me get in with him and hold him up. I remember how slippery he was," Dean reminisced from the doorway. "Did you learn how to bathe a baby by helping with your brother?," he asked, mellow himself from his full stomach.

"Actually, my Aunt Nadie told me when Mathieu was born," Angela replied, focused on Penny. Suddenly she gasped and clapped her soapy hand over her mouth. Her face flushed red and looked over her shoulder at Dean with a terrified expression. She was shaking so badly that the baby was vibrating a tiny bit, making ripples in the bath water. Penny's eyes went wide and she started to fret.

Dean stepped closer and knelt down beside Angela. She looked like she was going to have a panic attack. "Hey, hey, it's Ok, calm down," he said. Moving slowly, he put his hand on Penny. Angela withdrew her hand and covered her face, hunching over as if to make herself as small as possible. Dean could see her shoulders shake and could hear her crying. Quickly he rinsed the last of the soap off of the baby and picked the tiny girl up. He wrapped her into the ducky towel so that she wouldn't get cold. He tucked her into the crook of one arm and shuffling over to Angela, put his other arm around the crying girl. He rubbed Angela's back the same way he would when Sam has a nightmare.

After a few minutes, he could feel her get calmer underneath his palm. "Let's get you up from the floor, OK," he coaxed softly. He wrapped his free hand around her slender arm and gently tugged her to her feet. She kept her hands over her face, but she let him steer her over to the bed. She sat down and then slid back to lean against the headboard, knees pulled up, head resting on her folded knees.

Dean looked up at Sam who was standing in the kitchen area looking shocked, a recently dried dish still in hand. Sam's big hazel eyes met Dean's green ones. "What happened," he mouthed. Dean just shrugged and motioned his brother over. Sam put the dish down and climbed up on the bed. The sweet kid moved to sit beside her, eyes darting between watching Angela's bowed head and Dean's face.

The older brother looked at the sleepy baby still in his arms. Leaving Sam with the distraught girl for the moment, he laid Penny on the end of the bed and got her changed into her sleep clothes. Giving the little girl a kiss, he tenderly placed her into the crib. He turned off the overhead light, plunging the room into shadows cast by the yellow glow from the lamp by the bed. Then he returned to the bed. He met Sam's sorrowful eyes across Angela's bowed head. Dean climbed up on the and sat on his knees across from her. Kindly he tugged her hands away from her face.

"It's ok, it's ok," he soothed, ducking his head to try and see her face, her damp hands still in his. Sam's leaned over with a wad of kleenex and Dean let go of one of the girl's hands and stuffed the kleenex into her palm. "Here, blow your nose," he said, still using the low soothing voice he used for small children and frightened animals.

Angela wiped her eyes and blew her nose, stuffing the used tissue into a pocket. Sam reached out and tentatively pushed her long hair back behind her ear so that he could see her face. Everything about Sam oozed compassion so Dean let Sam take the lead, less comfortable with asking questions. "What's going on Angela," Sam said.

The girl looked at them both, eyes red and swollen, then stared blankly at the space over Dean's shoulder. She was obviously lost in memories, but in a quiet voice she finally spoke. "When you asked me how I knew how to bathe a baby, it reminded me of Mathieu, my son."


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some sad content here as we learn more about Angela's background. Nothing graphic, but you might need some tissues.

Dean was shocked, Angela had another kid? Geez, she was so young. The suspicions that had been plaguing him made his gut churn. Maybe he had misjudged the girl? Could his Dad be right about her? He looked at his brother, Sam was young, and in some ways very innocent - Dean had worked hard to let Sammy be a kid for as long as possible. But Sam wasn't stupid, and Dean was very interested in hearing his thoughts. But, now was not the time and Sam was still focused on Angela, so Dean crossed his legs to get more comfortable and settled in to hear what the girl had to say.

xxxxxxxxx

Angela was totally embarrassed, she had fallen apart again. She caught the puzzled and worried looks the brothers exchanged, but she just couldn't help herself. When Sam had gotten off the bus by himself after school, it had seem odd to see him without Dean, a sturdy presence right behind him. The boy had seemed so dejected that she couldn't help but invite him over. And tonight had been so nice. It had felt a little bit like family, like having a home, listening to Sam nattering away as she made dinner. Getting dinner ready for Dean to come back to after work felt good. It made her think, for the first time since she had run from home, about the future and making some kind of life for herself and Penny. Everything had been so good, and then Dean had asked about her experience with babies and she remembered Mathieu. Unexpectedly, she found herself wanting to talk about her son.

"At first, I didn't know I was pregnant," she began, still unsure. "I thought I had the flu, I was just tired and nauseated. Maman asked me what was wrong, but she had so many troubles already, that I didn't want to add to them by making her worry. Father was home a lot that winter, and Daniel was getting over pneumonia, and Aunt Nadie had just been diagnosed with breast cancer. So I ignored it and went on as usual. Then, a couple of weeks after my birthday, I noticed my stomach starting to grow." Sam interjected softly with one of the questions bouncing around in Dean's brain.

"Which birthday? How old were you?," Sam asked. Dean could see Angela struggle between wanting to share her experience and being ashamed to reveal the truth.

'I had just turned thirteen," she finally whispered, eyes now focused on her hands that were idly twisting a strand of her long hair. "For a long time, I was able to hide my belly with sweaters and such, but by the summer, it was too warm. Maman had been spending a lot of time with Aunt Nadie who had just gotten out of the hospital. And Daniel, well he believed me when I told him I was simply getting fat." A ghost of a smile drifted across her face as she remembered her brother.

"One day in August, I had gotten caught in the rain and my wet shirt showed my bump. Maman took a good look at me and then started to cry. I told her I was so sorry," Angela started to cry again, tears rolling down her cheeks to fall into the denim of her jeans. In a voice choked with emotion, she forced out the words, "I begged her to forgive me. But Maman just stroked my face and sent me to go get dry. That night I could hear Father and Maman fighting. Very late that night, I came down to the kitchen and Maman was sitting at the table. Her face was bruised, but she seemed so peaceful. She held me close and told me that everything was going to be OK, and that she loved me no matter what." The girl stopped, overwhelmed by the emotion. Dean had to swallow down the thickness that had built up in his own throat and Sam had to wipe his tears on the shoulder of his flannel over shirt. Dean reached out a hand and squeezed Sammy's knee, trying to provide some comfort. Sam smiled at him, a pale version of his usual warm grin, but enough to let Dean know that he was OK.

"Then what happened," Sam asked, handing her more tissues. Angela wiped her eyes and nose and continued her story.

"The next day, Maman asked me to take Daniel and bring some lunch to Aunt Nadie. We hadn't been gone more than five minutes, when Daniel fell in a puddle. So, I sent him back home to get into some clean clothes." Once again, Angela had to stop and wipe her eyes. "I never saw him again."

Dean couldn't imagine never seeing Sam again, and even the thought made his heart clench. Without realizing it, he had moved closer to his brother and now the kid was perched between the two teens, leaning against Dean's knee. Sam had one hand resting on Angela's ankle, but the other was tightly fisted around the hem of Dean's flannel. Dean couldn't help himself, he wrapped an arm around his brother and tugged him closer. Finding her voice again, Angela spoke as if the words hurt her throat just to say them.

"Aunt Nadie kept me at her house a long time. She told me that Maman would be coming by later, but she never came. I hurried back to the house. I was worried about Daniel. I had expected him to get changed and then join me, but he never arrived at Aunt Nadie's either. When I got to the house, there was no one there. It was long after dark when Father came home. I asked him where Maman and Daniel had gone. I remember that he looked at me and told me that Maman was sick of me and so she had taken Daniel and left forever. Then he took most her clothes and things and burned them in a big fire out back." At this Angela lowered her head to her knees again.

The three young people sat in silence, each grappling with powerful emotion. Sam had turned and was muffling a sob, his face pressed into Dean's shoulder. Dean was wiping his eyes on his wrist as he rubbed Sam's arm. And Angela was staring blankly into space, her face blotchy and red. Dean wasn't sure that she could go on telling them her story, but the girl was made of tougher stuff that he thought. She took a deep breath and spoke in a shaky voice.

"I continued on the best I could, taking care of Father and praying that Maman and Daniel would come back. I was so afraid, but when the baby came, Father let Aunt Nadie help me. The baby took a long time and I thought I was going to die, but eventually he was born. I named him Mathieu Joseph. He was beautiful but tiny. Nadie was still fighting cancer, but she did her best to show me how to care for him. Father was very busy, so much of the time it was just me and Mathieu." The happy memories of the baby boy softened Angela's expression for a brief moment, despite the grief that was heavy on her face. Dean could only think how hard it must have been, to be so young, alone with a newborn baby. Angela continued, and Dean turned his attention back to her.

"Then he got sick. I didn't know what to do for him and I begged Father to let me take him to the doctor." Angela's words faltered and the color drained from her face, making her red, swollen eyes stand out like a ghost. Dean tensed, certain he didn't want to know what happened next and wondering if he could somehow shield Sam from the ugly truth he sensed looming.

"Father took Mathieu from me. I was screaming and clawing at him, but Father just hit me until I stayed down." Her voice was so choked with tears that her words came out in rough bursts.

"He killed Mathieu. Father killed my baby right there while I watched." Sam gasped and clung to Dean. The older boy shushed him softly and held him closer. Angela seemed to have cried herself out, because there were no more tears, only a haunted look that chilled Dean. She continued talking as if her story was a terrible wound that had to be flushed clean before it could begin to scab over.

"He wouldn't even tell me where he had buried Mathieu, Father simply put him in the corn field like a dead dog, unbaptised and unknown." Her shoulders were bowed, heavy with sorrow. She slowly tilted her head to focus on Dean's face. "I've never told anyone about him before. But that is how I know about babies," she finished as if simply answering the question from an hour ago. Angela sagged against the headboard, exhausted by the talking and her memories. Sam had quieted, but was still clinging to Dean with tears in his eyes. It felt like days since Dean had walked through the door. He carefully untangled an arm from Sam and reached out a hand to Angela. She looked at him as if she had forgotten that he was there. Dean had no words to convey how sorry he was for all that she had gone through.

"C'mere," he tugged her towards him and pulled her into a three way hug, Sam in one arm, her slender frame in the other. He felt her tense up for a moment, then she relented and leaned against him, shoulders shaking. For a long time Dean simply held the two, his own tears falling into Sam's soft hair. Angela's face was turned towards Sam, and he saw her bring her hand up to pat Sammy's cheek.

"Oh Sam," she said, "I'm sorry I've made you so sad." She sniffed, trying to pull herself back together. "Mathieu is safe with the angels now." She pulled back more fully, and Dean let her go. She gave a faint smile, but she looked wrung out and far older than she had at dinner. Looking slightly uncomfortable, she ducked her head and said, "Um, if you don't mind, I'm really tired now." Dean knew a kind dismissal when he heard one.

"Of course," he said. He gathered Sam to him and brought them both to their feet. Folding back the covers, he helped Angela slide underneath while Sam gathered their things. He gave her arm a squeeze and then checked on Penny who was sleeping soundly in her crib. With a final look around, he ushered Sam out and back to their own room.

Their motel room was cold and dark. Sam sniffled and dropped his books on the table. Dean flicked on a light. "Hey Sam, you OK?," he asked, knowing that his sensitive brother was anything but OK.

"Yeah, I'm gonna go get ready for bed," Sam said wiping his face on his sleeve. The kid sounded wrung out too, so even though it was still pretty early, Dean just let him go. He plunked himself on the couch and turned the TV on low. Flicking through the channels, he settled on MTV. Normally he could be distracted by the hot girls in the videos, but, tonight all he could think about was Angela and the story she had told them. No wonder she'd run away. She had escaped her Father in order to keep Penny alive.

Dean thought of Sam. If Dad ever threatened his brother, he would take Sammy and disappear in a heartbeat. He'd do anything to keep Sam safe. He'd been taking care of the kid for practically his whole life with, although he didn't like to think it, very little help from their Dad. Ever since Sam was little, he would come to Dean, not Dad if he was scared or hurt or anxious. Hell, Sammy's first word was a lisping version of Dean's name. He taught Sam how to walk, talk, read, write, and practically everything else. There was nothing he wouldn't do to protect Sam, yet Angela's story reminded him that sometimes the worst monsters were people.


	18. Chapter 18

By the next weekend, Sam marveled at how quickly he, Dean and Angela had slipped into a routine. Everyday he would get off the bus and go to Angela's room. She was always so glad to see him and would have a glass of milk and a snack ready for him. He would cuddle and play with Penny for a while so that Angela could take a shower. Then he would sit at the table and talk while she dried her long hair. Then he would watch as she fed baby Penny. Angela always listened as he told her about his day, or what he had learned. She never made fun of him for being smart, or teased him for liking math or science or getting excited by a new word. As he he did his homework, she would start to make dinner. While she cooked, she would sing softly. Her songs were in French so he didn't know what they meant, but he liked to listen to her anyway. Even though she wasn't much older than Dean, it felt a bit like what Sam imagined having a mother would feel like.

Sometimes he and Angela would play games waiting for Dean to come home after work for a late dinner. Word games were too difficult as Angela only knew some words in French and hadn't had much schooling. But they played cards, or Life, or Snakes and Ladders, old board games which Angela had found on the shelf of the motel room closet, remnants of someone else's vacation. And, she had promised to try and teach him to bake, so that he could make a pie for Dean.

Then his brother would arrive after work. Sam always felt guilty at how hard things were for Dean. He took care of Sam, he worked a manual labour job so that they had enough money until Dad came home. Dean would make the meals, get Sam ready for school, help him with his homework, and anything else that Sam needs. So it made Sam very happy that his big brother could come home to a good home cooked meal. Dean would deny it, but Sam knew that the older boy would skip meals or go without food so that there was enough to last, or so that Sam wouldn't go hungry. So for once it was nice to see Dean get enough to eat. And Dean seemed happier than he had for a long time.

xxxxxx

That Saturday, the three had made plans to go to the roller rink that was down the road from the motel. It seemed lame to Dean, but Sam was really excited and he could seldom resist his younger brother's pleading. Angela had never been on roller skates but thought it might be fun, despite her anxiety about having another embarrassing panic attack. Sam's enthusiasm was contagious. "We'll be with you, so nothing bad is gonna happen - don't worry," Sam had promised.

So here Dean was with wheels on his feet, bad pop music blasting as people circled the room in under cheesy neon lights and disco balls that were probably left over from the 70's. This was where cool went to die. But, apparently roller skating was popular with the pre-teen crowd, so Sam had seen some kids from his school. Thankfully Dean hadn't spotted anyone he knew from class. He was leaning against the boards, ostensibly to keep an eye on Penny, but mostly so he could avoid the humiliation of being out among the little kids. Despite the loud music, Penny was happily propped up on the padded bench behind him chewing on her fist and drooling. Dean was watching Sam try to teach Angela how to skate.

She was actually doing pretty good for her first time. She was holding Sam's hand and his brother slowly pulled her around until she figured out the cross over movement need to turn. They attempted the first corner. Sam had his tongue tucked between his teeth as he concentrated on guiding Angela. Suddenly Angela got bumped by a kid speeding by and with a flail of arms both she and Sam went down. Dean tensed, ready to rush out and help, but Angela started to laugh. She threw her head back, hands behind her propping her up, and her long mane of hair a kaleidoscope of crazy neon colours from the lights. At first Sam seemed confused, but then he too started to laugh. From where he was watching, Dean's heart lifted. The grind of moving from town to town, always being the new kid, of worrying about him and Dad when they were off on a hunt, had squeezed the fun out of Sam lately. He hadn't seen his brother laugh with such abandon for quite a while. It made Dean happy to see Sammy being a kid.

Angela seemed no worse for wear and the two skaters got back to their feet and successfully made circuits of the room for a good half an hour before they made their way over to where Dean was watching.

"Hey Dean, did you see how good Angela was doing?," said Sam, practically beaming.

"I did, you're a good teacher Sam. So, what did you think?," he directed the question to Angela who was red faced with her hair a bit of a mess.

"It was fun, but harder than I expected. I think I'm ready to stop now." Angela smiled and then sat down to begin removing her skates.

After returning the rented skates, Angela insisted on buying them lunch at the rink's canteen. They settled into a booth to eat. Dean got a burger, while Sam had a BLT and Angela the Chicken tenders. They shared a giant platter of fries. Dean ate one handed, holding Penny on his lap. The baby was getting sleepy, content to rest against his chest and watch the light show from the rink area reflecting off the plexiglass back of the booth. At one point Dean looked around. The other tables were filled with families, kids of varying ages with Moms and Dads. Dean realized that in a weird way, he, Sam, Angela and Penny were not much different. Sure they were a lot younger, but other than that, by all appearances they were a family like the ones around them.

At a table across the room, one family in particular caught Dean's eye because he knew one of the people sitting at it. Probably the only other kid about his age in the place was sitting there, a guy named Brandon. Now Dean didn't know Brandon very well, he was a quiet kid who seldom participated in class and who didn't seem to have many friends. Sometimes he would also go to the bleachers at lunch, usually with a book. He never spoke to Dean, but they would exchange a nod as they passed.

Brandon was with someone he assumed was his mother, and a younger boy who was looked enough like him that it was probably his brother. The younger kid was in a motorized wheelchair and seemed to require a lot of care. Brandon would put the drinking straw in his brother's mouth and hold the cup for him. The kid's arms and legs seemed to spasm all over the place, but Brandon obviously had a lot of practice dealing with it because he calmly moved things out of the way and avoided getting smacked with practiced ease. The kid seemed to have said something funny, because Brandon and his Mom burst out laughing. Perhaps feeling Dean's eyes on their family, Brandon looked across the room and noticed Dean watching. The elder Winchester hadn't meant to stare, so he simply gave Brandon his usual nod.

Sam tugged on his arm, directing his attention back to their table. "So can we Dean?," his brother asked. At Dean's puzzled look, Sam rolled his eyes good naturedly and repeated what he had apparently already said. "Can we go to the park?"

"Sure, if Angela is up for it?," he turned to make sure that Sammy's enthusiasm was shared and Angela was on board. Their friend was also looking around the small food area at the other families.

"Ok," she said after a long pause. Dean shook his head fondly at Sam who couldn't sit still any longer.

"Come on Mr. Fidget," he teased. And with that, they tossed their garbage and Dean herded Sam towards the door.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains potentially disturbing and/or triggering content of a violent nature, and one creepy sexualized moment. I tried to have discretion, but should this bother you, please skipped to the end note where I have summarized what you need to know for the rest of the story.

The day was sunny, but still a bit cool and Angela made sure that Penny was dressed snuggly in a number of layers. Then she put her daughter on the blanket that Dean had unfolded onto a dry patch of grass. There was a brightly coloured plush ball that Penny seemed really attracted to, so Angela flipped up the corner of the blanket and hid the toy underneath. The baby found that endlessly fascinating and would search for the stuffie again and again, laughing with joy when she found it. While Angela sat with Penny, she watched Sam climb on the monkey bars, Dean hovering below to make sure he didn't fall.

It touched Angela's heart to watch Dean with Sam. She had seen how he would constantly flick his eyes to Sam whenever his brother was out of his direct line of sight. Dean would always put his body between Sam and anything remotely dangerous. Sometimes, she caught him looking at Sam with such love that she felt like she was spying on something sacred and had to turn away. Seeing the Winchesters together made her miss Daniel. He would be 13 by now, a teenager. She prayed every night that Daniel and their mother were safe and happy, but it was hard to believe that was true.

Angela had begun to think about the future. What was she going to do next? She didn't really plan to spend so long in Butler. Her original plan had been to go west, but after three days of hiding, taking buses and trying not to leave a trail, she had stopped in Butler because she was too tired to keep going. It was hard to be running away with a baby in tow. But, this little Pennsylvania town was still not far enough from home to be sure that Father couldn't find her. After all, he had lots of friends and business associates who wore black leather jackets and rode loud motorcycles. And although her mother had warned her never to ask Father about his business, she knew that what he did wasn't entirely legal.

When she had first taken the bag of money from Father's room, her only thought had been to use it to get Penny away from him. To run, she had to have money. Twice previously, a tiny life had depended on her to keep it safe and she had failed. Mathieu had deserved to be healthy and to grow up, and she hadn't been able to protect him from Father. And the little baby after him, never even had a chance to be born.

Father had discovered that she was pregnant again and had been furious. It's not as if she wanted to have another baby, but if God had put a child inside of her, surely it was a blessing. She had been praying for the safety of her unborn baby when Father caught her. He had thrown her Bible in the fireplace. "God doesn't love you," he had shouted at her. "Nobody loves you. You are worthless and good for nothing." It was foolish of her to argue, but for once she yelled back.

"God wouldn't give me a baby if He didn't love me," she had screamed right in Father's face. He had slapped her hard across the face and then grabbed her hair and dragged her over to the bed. She tried to get her feet under her and scrabbled at his hand, but like always he was too strong.

Angela remembered the feeling of helplessness that had rolled over her. It was best to go limp and just wait until Father was done. He reached over to the night table and snatched up her rosary. Father forcibly tore the string of beads to pieces in front of her and then threw the cross at her face. She flinched, but knew better than to move. With one meaty hand, he seized her jaw in his hand and forced her to look at him. "You don't belong to God, you belong to me, do you hear me?," he growled, then roughly pushed her face away. The snick of his leather belt as he pulled it from his jeans was loud in the room. She didn't have time to do anything before the first lash of his belt landed across her stomach. The buckle dug in through the sweatshirt, but the thick material protected her skin which seemed to aggravate Father even more.

Father slapped her face again. "Take it off," he demanded. Afraid of angering him any further, she pulled the soft material over her head and dropped it on the floor beside the bed. The cool Fall air raised goosebumps on her bare arms and chest, but she kept still. He took a long look at her, seemingly mesmerized by her exposed body and Angela thought that maybe she could avoid a beating. She reached out a tentative hand and touched his arm. But all he did was flinch. Then he began to whip her in earnest.

It hurt so bad, but she tried not to cry out. There was no point in making him even angrier. As he swung the heavy belt buckle again and again, she could feel the wetness of blood on her stomach. Rolling away, she tried to avoid the blows, but he kept on swinging, lashing her back and ribs with the buckle. "You dirty, little pute," he hissed, slightly out of breath from the exertion. "Why must you make me do this, huh? You like to make me mad? You like pissing me off?" Angela brought her arms around her belly. The stinging burn of the gouges was everywhere, but she knew the cuts weren't deep enough to hurt her baby.

As if he could read her mind, Father grabbed her hip and rolled her onto her back. He dropped the belt, his chest heaving from the effort and stared at her. Blood was dripping from her wounds onto the bedding below. She just laid there, hoping that it was over and that he would leave so that she could go get cleaned up. Instead, he stared at her a long time, then ran his calloused fingers gently across her cheek. "When are you gonna learn? You live in my house, and eat my food, and spend my money." he said softly, shaking his head as if he was sadly disillusioned. "I'll always take care of you Angela, even when you disappoint me so badly." With that he moved his hands, stroking her arms and fondling her breasts. He leaned over, his face so close she could hardly focus. Angela didn't realize that she was holding her breath until he kissed her deep and harsh, stubbled face scraping her chin raw, one hand behind her head, the other still roaming her bloodied body. Just when she needed to breathe, he pulled away and tenderly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Why don't you get dressed and make some dinner, eh? I have some business to do." Then he was gone, his bloodstained belt still beside the bed where he'd dropped it.

Later that week deep cramping pain in her stomach had woken her. She had spent the night in the bathroom trying to cope with the blood and the pain. God had found her unworthy to be a mother and had taken her baby from her.

A shriek of laughter drew her back to the present moment. Sam was running around trying to avoid Dean. The older boy zigged left, Sam went right and the younger brother slipped just beyond Dean's fingertips, dancing away with another roar of laughter. Dean made a show of bending over, hands on knees as he faked gasping for air. "Ok, you win Sammy," he told the beaming boy. The brothers made their way over to the blanket. Dean dropped beside Penny and began playing peek-a-boo with the little girl. Sam lounged back, resting on his arms. His face was pink with the cool air and laughter. He looked so much like Daniel at that moment that it made her heart ache. Her feelings must have shown on her face.

"Are you Ok, Angela?," he asked, kind as usual and far more perceptive than she expected most 11 year old boys to be. She reached under her heavy sweater and felt the scars that marked her stomach. Could their father help her to evade her own? Was it wrong to wish that she could truly be part of Sam and Dean's family?

"I'm fine," she said forcing a smile onto her face. And for the moment, it was true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While Sam and Dean play at the part, Angela watches, noticing how good Dean is with his little brother. She remembers her father finding out that she was pregnant with his second child (between Mathieu and Penny.) In her memory, her father tells he that she belongs to him, then beats her and touches her sexually, in a confusing shift between vicious and tender. She took the bag of money which she knows her father got criminally so that she could save Penny's life from her father. Angela wonders what it would be like to be part of Dean and Sam's family and if John can help her avoid her own father.


	20. Chapter 20

After dinner, Sam, Dean and Angela were settled on the couch watching MTV. "Hey, did you know that the church in this video is the same one where Lizzie Borden taught Sunday school?," said Sam out of the blue. Dean rolled his eyes at his brother, God the kid was weird sometimes. Angela didn't really seem to be paying attention. She had been a little off all afternoon at the park and had asked that they hang out in Dean and Sam's room rather than her own as they usually did. So the three of them, with Penny asleep in her crib nearby, were jammed onto the tiny couch. Sam was focused on the TV. His legs dangled over the arm of the couch, his body draped across Dean's lap. He ran his fingers through Sam's hair, grateful that his brother still allowed him that easy affection. All too soon, Sammy would grow up enough to find that sort of thing embarrassing.

Angela sat on the other end of the couch, her eyes seldom moving towards the TV screen and her thoughts obviously somewhere else. Dean nudged the girl with his elbow and she glanced up at him.

"Hey are you Ok?," he whispered not wanting to draw Sam's attention. She gave him a strained look, but didn't answer. Sam must have heard anyway, because he swiveled his head to look up at Angela.

"Is something going on?," Sam asked his gaze moving from her face to Dean's.

"I'm just watching TV," she said with a heavy, aggravated sigh. She was obviously grumpy about something. His brother shot him a puzzled look, then swung his feet down and slid onto the floor in front of the two teens. He knelt and touched a hand to Angela's bent knee.

"We can watch something else if you want?," Sam offered. The kid was such a soft touch, no wonder he picked up on Angela's mood.

"No, it's fine." Angela looked anything but fine. Still, Dean figured he'd leave it alone, everyone was entitled to a bad mood occasionally. She shifted position and tucked her feet up, angling her body away from the two boys. Dean turned his attention back to the TV where Meat Loaf's theatrical video was beginning. He noticed that Sam was chewing his lip pensively.

"Did you want to play a game or something?," Sammy asked Angela. Unexpectedly she pursed her lips and made an exasperated sound. Pushing to her feet she turned on Sam who was still sitting on the dirty carpet.

"No Sam, I don't want to play a game, or change the channel or do something else." Frustration practically oozed out of the girl. "Why are you being such a pest tonight?" Angela spat the last at Sam, whose face had fallen in hurt confusion. Dean jumped to his own feet. Maybe she was in a bad mood, but she didn't have to take a shot at Sam. Sammy had simply asked a question. He leaned over his brother and faced off with Angela above the kneeling boy.

"Hey, you don't get to talk to him like that! He was just trying to be nice." Dean would defend Sam from anyone who tried to hurt him - no matter what. Angela's face was flushed and her hands were balled up into fists. The room crackled with angry tension. She opened her mouth to say something when suddenly the power went out and plunged the room into darkness.

The wind had been howling all evening, so it wasn't a complete surprise when the power in the motel blinked twice more and then winked out completely. Dean was instantly on high alert and moving around Sam towards the gun in the night table. He found it and carried it loosely by his leg, hoping the darkness would hide it from Angela. He also grabbed the flashlight they kept for emergencies. Fritzing lights could be a sign of a supernatural presence and Dean needed to be armed. But when the lights stayed off, he relaxed slightly. Sam had gone to the window and was peering out between the curtains.

"The lights are off all the way down the road, so I think a transformer blew or something knocked down the lines ," he offered, knowing that Dean would need confirmation that this was a normal power outage caused by the weather and not something more sinister. Dean joined his brother at the window. The wind was blowing garbage and debris across the parking lot, and the only light he could see anywhere was from the moon. Although the darkness and high winds created a bit of a creepy atmosphere, Dean didn't scare easy. He checked the salt lines with the flashlight, and everything was fully intact. Once he was pretty sure that they were safe, he tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans.

The dark room emphasized the silence. The wind moaned and howled, but above that noise, Dean could hear Angela breathing harshly. She was standing in front of the couch, exactly where she had been when the lights went out. Still tense from their confrontation, he made his way over to the girl. Turning on the flashlight, he checked on her. Ok, maybe he was mad at her for sniping at Sam, but he wasn't going to leave her floundering in the dark. She squinted from the sudden light, but even so, her eyes were wide with fear, not anger as he expected. It seemed that whatever she had been so angry about had faded to the background by the more immediate concern of the power outage. Dean reached out a hand and she took it, her grip surprisingly strong. She was obviously trying to keep it together. Keeping the flashlight on, he guided her onto his bed. Scooting right into the very middle, she sat with her arms wrapped around her knees.

Sam left the window and climbed onto his own bed facing Angela. Dean checked on Penny who continued sleeping as if nothing unusual was going on, then he joined Sam. The last thing he wanted was to continue the argument that had been brewing. With the TV off and all the little hums and clicks from the appliances gone, the room was very quiet. The howl of the wind outside however, seemed particularly loud, especially as it rattled the glass sliding door behind them.

He saw Sam shoot Angela a cautious look, "Hey Dean, can you still make that goat shadow thingie?," he asked. It had been a long time since Sam had wanted Dean to make shadow puppets. Normally he said they were for babies, but it was obvious he was trying to distract Angela. Dean handed off the light to his brother, and stacking his fingers into the right configuration, angled his hands so that they cast a shadow on the wall above the bed.

Angela still looked a little shaken in the dim light, but she gave him a shaky smile. "Can you make any other shapes?," she asked. So Dean spent the next twenty minutes making every shadow puppet he could think of or create. He didn't want to wear out the battery in the light, but felt it was important to keep Angela calm. By the time he had made what he thought was a fantastic elephant, which Sam said looked like a lava flow, Angela was chuckling at their brotherly banter. Dean told Sam to turn off the light and cast around something for them to do in the dark to keep occupied when Angela spoke into the dark room.

"I'm sorry Sam, for being so snippy earlier. I've been thinking a lot about what I'm going to do next and I'm worried and scared and I took that out on you. I hope you can forgive me." Angela's voice sounded so sad, as if she had lost something precious.

"Of course Angela," said Sam with all sincerity. "It's Ok, Dean yells at me all the time. I can be very annoying." Pride surged through Dean even as he gave Sam a half-hearted shove for his little insult. Sammy was such a kind kid, with such an open heart. Dean wished sometimes that he could forgive as easily as his little brother. Dad worried that Sam's kindness would put him in danger one day, but Dean couldn't bring himself to wish that his kid was any less compassionate.

Sometimes it was easier to say things when you could hide your face in the dark and Dean could sense that Angela had something more on her mind.

"So, you two travel all over with your Dad who sells things, right?" Dean nodded, forgetting for a second that she couldn't see him. "And you like being with him," she stated. She didn't seem to be looking for an answer, rather it was if she was working out a puzzle. "Are you going to do that together as a family, forever?"

"Yes," said Dean.

"Maybe not forever," said Sam at the same time. Well that was a surprise. Dean couldn't see Sam's face, but could tell that his brother was hiding behind his hair.

"Sammy, it's a family business, what else would we do?" Ignoring Angela for the moment, Dean nudged Sam as he asked the question. Sammy shrugged.

"I don't know, I'm just saying…," Sam trailed off. Shaking his head, Sam redirected the conversation back to Angela. "Why,?" he asked the girl.

"Just, um..I was thinking about doing the same kind of thing. Travelling around all the time. But how would I get a job when our money runs out? Where would Penny go to school? And..." She paused, obviously trying to gather her thoughts. "I don't know if I could do that by myself." Her voice was small and wistful in the dark. "I'm not really good for anything. What am I going to do?"

Dean just sat there. On one hand, he wanted to reassure the girl that she would be fine, that she could do it, because they had done it. But on the other hand, their life was hard, and dangerous and rough. Sure, they had each other, and their Winchester stubbornness, but their life was not one he would want for Angela and Penny. The older girl seemed so fragile. She brought out all of Dean's protective instincts. And Penny? Well the little girl deserved better than musty motel rooms, and gas station food, and all the other rough and tumble ways that Dean and Sam had been forced to adapt to. Sam had been strangely quiet beside him, but he could almost hear the kid thinking.

"Maybe Pastor Jim could help?" Sam had directed his question to Dean. As much as he wanted to dismiss Sam's idea, he couldn't ignore the hopeful tone in his brother's voice. So he considered the idea. As a man of faith, their friend would certainly be willing to help, but if Dean called him, Pastor Jim would require that the boys come clean to their Dad about Angela. And since Dad had already forbid them from having anything to do with the girls, that would be an epic disaster. He sighed. Dean hadn't really felt guilty about lying to Dad until now because he knew that his father had the wrong idea about Angela. But Dean realized now how stupid it had been to go behind his father's back. Not to mention that keeping Dad from being angry seemed like a selfish reason to deny Angela the help she might need from Pastor Jim.

"If we go to Pastor Jim, we're going to have to tell Dad that we've been lying to him for weeks." Sam shifted uncomfortably, but Dean knew that his brother would ultimately come to the same conclusion that he had. It was important to help the girls, more important than any punishment their Dad could give. Just then Angela's voice floated over from the next bed.

"Is Pastor Jim Catholic?," she asked, her voice sounding slightly nervous. Dean had to think for a second.

"No, I think he's Lutheran. Why?" Privately, as much as Dean loved Pastor Jim, he never really bought into religion of any type. It all seemed a little too far-fetched. Ghosts and black dogs and other monsters he could believe in because he could see them and he and his Dad could kill them. But God, a heavenly father-figure that cared about everyone, that seemed much harder to believe in.

"A Catholic priest wouldn't…., he couldn't...it's just that…" Angela couldn't seem to find the words. She took a deep breath that Dean could hear from where he was sitting. "Penny isn't baptized and I don't know if she can be." Dragging his hand down his face, Dean mentally kicked himself. He had briefly forgotten his suspicions.

"Why not?," asked Sam. His brother was too smart to not wonder. Dean felt like he should do something, but he couldn't erase the question that hung in the air, and all he could do was wait to see how Angela responded.

"Sam," she began, reluctance clear in her voice. "Remember when I told you that my father…hurt me?" Dean was grateful that his brother couldn't see more than Angela's silhouette in the dark room.

"Yeah." Sam sounded unsure. Dean wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulders afraid for the confession that might be coming.

"Father didn't just beat me...," she stalled, perhaps hoping that Sam could put together for himself what she was trying to say.

The tension had once again built in the room. In the darkness Dean couldn't see Angela, but the defeat and shame in her voice, confirmed for him what he had already suspected. He'd already given Sam some information about the birds and the bees, so the kid wasn't totally innocent. But was this really something you told an 11 year old? Dean didn't know, he figured his own point of view was perhaps too skewed to know what was right. He decided that telling Sammy directly would be easiest on the kid and less embarrassing. He pulled Sam's hand into his own to offer some preemptive comfort

"Sammy, Angela's father is also Penny's father," he said softly, as if his tone could lessen the horror of what he was describing. Dean could almost hear Sam's mental gears turning as he worked out what that meant. His brother's small body shuddered and the kid gasped, wide eyed. Squeezing his shoulder, Dean pulled him into a half-hug, hearing Angela sob a few feet away.

"Oh Angela," Sam moaned, sorrow and tears weighing down his words. Sam wiggled out of his grasp and Dean followed him to the edge of the bed. Sam got down, climbed up on the other bed and wrapped his arms around Angela who had her head buried in her knees again. Smiling sadly, Dean felt his heart swell with love again for his sweet, compassionate kid. Angela's only response to Sam's hug was to turn her face into his skinny chest. The three sat in the dark like that for a while. Once Sam pulled back a bit, Dean cleared his throat.

"Hey Sammy, why don't you take the flashlight and get ready for bed, it's getting late." In reality Dean had no idea what time it was, but the power was obviously going to stay off for a while. With all the unchecked emotion swirling, it seemed like a good idea to settle in for the night, besides he wanted Sam out of the way for a minute. Sam took the flashlight and after digging around in his bag for a minute, retreated into the bathroom. Once the door clicked behind his brother, Dean began.

"Angela, don't get me wrong, I like being on the road with my Dad and Sam, but it's a hard life. I've done the best I could to keep Sammy safe and let him be a kid, you know." He paused as he searched for a way to explain. "But travelling is no way to raise Penny. If I could have chosen a different life for Sam, I would have. So, if you want me to, I can call Pastor Jim." He wanted to be honest with her. When Sammy was little, he had Dad, and then help from Uncle Bobby, Pastor Jim and some other friends from the hunting community. But he couldn't imagine trying to take care of a baby all on his own. And he certainly couldn't see Angela, no matter how resilient, being able to care for Penny living like a nomad, moving every few weeks.

"Thank you Dean. I wish that my life was different." The dark seemed to make Angela bolder because Dean was surprised by what she said next. "I wish that you and Sam were my real brothers and that I truly was part of your family."

Dean was touched, but he figured that if Angela really knew about their lives, that she wouldn't want to be a Winchester. "Trust me, my family is pretty messed up in it's own way," he said, in a joking tone. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, but he'd reached his limit of emotion for one day. "I'm going to check on Sam, hold tight and I'll bring you the flashlight."


	21. Chapter 21

At first Dean thought that the power had come back on and that the TV had flared to life. But he remembered, as his sleepy brain came back to awareness, unplugging the TV to avoid that exact issue. Still, he had been dragged from sleep by some noise that he couldn't identify. Sam was sleeping peacefully, a miniature furnace tucked in against his side. Then he heard a muffled noise from the next bed. Sliding gently away from Sammy, he made his way to the foot of Angela's bed.

His friend was having a nightmare, kicking and struggling against the covers. Now that he was awake, he could understand the sleep slurred words that she was saying. "No! Stop hurting her! Maman!," she moaned and fought against the tangled bedsheets.

Considering what she had told them about her father, Dean had no doubt that nightmares came often for Angela. If it had been Sam in the grip of an obviously horrible dream, Dean would have immediately shaken him and woken him up. But he felt shy about approaching her when she was asleep. Still, he didn't want her to wake up Sammy.

Moving closer, Dean reached out a tentative palm, patting to try and find her arm or hand in the dark. "Angela, hey wake up," he called softly. His fingers found her arm, the coarse blanket between his hand and her skin. Shaking her gingerly, he tried to bring her out of her dream. With a frightened gasp, she bolted up in bed, yanking her arm away from him. She scrambling away from him so hard that, with another gasp and a thud, she fell off the other side of the bed.

"Angela!," Dean whispered as loudly as he dared. He rushed around to the other side where the girl was huddled against the side of the bed. The teen dropped to his knees next to her, but kept his hands up so that she wouldn't be scared. "Are you Ok?," he asked anxiously. A sliver of moonlight crept between the curtains, but it was still too dark to see her face clearly.

Slowly uncurling, she pushed her long hair to the side and peered up at him, her face sweaty and pale in the dim light. "I'm Ok," she said. Dean sat back on his haunches now that she seemed to be coming back to awareness. She reached a hand out and wrapped her fingers around his forearm. "Where's Penny," she asked, her voice still shaky and husky with sleep.

"Penny's fine, she's asleep in her crib." If it were him waking up blurry and confused, the first thing he would do is check on his kid too. "You were having a nightmare, and then you fell out of bed." Angela used his arm to pull herself upright, resting her back against the side of the bed. Not knowing how to help her, Dean sat there quietly, letting her gather some strength. He could feel the occasional tremor run through her body as she tried to push the nightmare away.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I was dreaming that I was back home." Dean let her talk, knowing that sometimes words were the only thing that helped. "Father was hitting Maman, but it was way worse than it usually was." A shudder ran through her. She seemed to be trying to remember her dream, but Dean wished that she wouldn't. He didn't want to hear any more about her horrible, pervert of a father. How terrible was her life if there was a "normal" way for her dad to beat her mother?

"Ok, let's get you back to bed," Dean tugged her upwards. Although still in her loose jeans, she had shed the heavy sweatshirt she had been wearing and he could see that she had on a simple t-shirt. Folding back the covers, he was about to assist her in climbing back into bed when he heard the compressor on the old fridge grumble back to life. The kitchen light blinked on, casting a yellow glow over the room and both teens shielded their eyes from the sudden glare.

Now that the lights were on, Angela seemed far more uncomfortable. She wrapped her skinny arms around herself and stepped back away from Dean. Quickly getting into bed, she pulled the covers up to her chin, hiding herself from Dean. She moved fast, but not before Dean saw the white lines of scars crisscrossing her arms. He pretended he didn't see the results of the abuse she had suffered and padded over to turn off the kitchen light. Outside the streetlight shone feebly through the thin curtains, casting the usual dim glow. Out of habit Dean checked the salt lines and the locks and went to join Sam who had slumbered through everything.

"Dean?," Angela's voice floated from the other bed. He turned over onto his side facing her and propped himself up on his elbow.

"Yeah?" He was tired and wanted to get back to sleep.

"Can you call Pastor Jim for me?" Her question had a ring of determination in it that Dean hadn't heard before.

"Of course, just maybe not now." Dean was pleased when she laughed softly at his silliness and snuggled down deeper into the blanket. "Get some rest Angela," she said, turning over onto his back. He had so much to think about. How was he going to explain what was going on to Pastor Jim? What could he do to help Angela and Penny? How pissed off was Dad going to be when he found out that Dean had lied to him? Despite these and other worries, Dean's eyes were heavy and with the faint sound of Sam snoring beside him, he drifted off to sleep.

xxxxxx

Once again, Angela seemed a little shy in the morning and moved her and Penny back into their own room after breakfast. Dean took advantage of the time with his brother to catch up on some solid training. After all, he didn't need another thing his Dad was going to freak out over. At least he could look Dad in the eye and promise that they had been doing the work he expected. He and Sam went for a run, and then did some sparring practice. Sammy seemed a little distracted and when he didn't even try to stop Dean from pinning him a second time, Dean had to ask.

"Dude, what the hell? You could break out of that hold no sweat weeks ago. What's up?" He was pretty sure what Sam's answer would be, but he couldn't help his brother process if he didn't let the kid talk.

"Why would Angela's father do….that to her Dean?," Sam asked. Dean released his brother and turned the kid around. Sam was looking up at him as if Dean had all the answers. Dean heaved out a gust of air and ran a hand through his hair to grip the back of his neck.

"I don't know, kiddo," he said trying to be gentle. In the past Dean had lied to Sam about a lot of things. Why they had moved so often, what Dad did, why they couldn't be "normal." As he looked at the skinny kid in front of him, all he wanted to do was wrap him in his arms and protect him from the ugly truths of this world. But Sam was smart, too smart to lie to about stuff like this. As much as he wanted to protect his brother, Dean could see his brother struggling with how to deal with this knowledge. Oh how Dean wished his kid didn't have to know anything about this.

"Is Angela going to be alright?" Sam's voice was full of doubt, as if he already knew the answer. Dean had no promises to make, and truthfully he had no idea if the emotional scars their friend carried would be something she could overcome.

"I don't know Sam, but I hope so." Keeping a careful eye on his brother, he could see Sam was still thinking too hard. "Look Sam, I'm gonna call Pastor Jim this afternoon and I'm sure he'll be able to help." If Dean had faith in anything, it was that Jim was a good man who would do whatever he could to assist Angela. Hopefully that would reassure Sam. "C'mon, let's try this hold again and this time I want you to break free and throw your best punch, OK?"

"So what will happen to Angela and Penny? Will they go to Blue Earth and live there?," Sam said, ignoring his request. Dean sighed again. Like a dog with a bone, it was difficult to re-direct Sam when he had something on his mind.

"Sam, I haven't called him yet, I don't know what's gonna happen. But I do know we need to finish training. So c'mon, focus." Dean nudged him and Sam nodded and stepped back into position, but before Dean could set himself into the hold their were practicing, Sam had one more thing to say.

"I wish Angela and Penny could stay with us and be a part of our family." The kid's back was turned pressing up against Dean's chest, so he couldn't see Sammy's face. Dean closed his eyes. Sam had just echoed the very thing that Angela had confessed last night. He kicked himself mentally for ever checking on the crying baby next door three weeks ago. Sam was attached now, and he was going to end up hurt. Hell, if he was honest with himself he was attached too. He cared about Angela, and holding Penny….well that made him feel things he was nervous to look at too deeply. Leaning over Sam, he whispered close to his brother's ear.

"Me too, Sammy, me too."


	22. Chapter 22

After getting cleaned up, they ate some lunch and then Sam buried his nose in a book. Dean puttered around their small room tidying things and putting off calling Pastor Jim. Normally he didn't mind talking with the calm and good-natured man. Jim was perceptive and patient, he could usually get to the heart of what might be bothering Dean without the older Winchester brother having to spell it out for him. Dean found a lot of comfort in Jim's quiet understanding and non-judgemental advice. And Sammy loved Pastor Jim, the two were quite close. Sam would spend a lot of time with the priest as they studied and read together.

Finally finding no other excuse to put off what he had promised, Dean dialed the number for the parish office, assuming that Jim would still be at the church this time on a Sunday. The phone rang twice before an older woman picked up the line.

"Parish office, how can I help you?" Dean recognized the voice of Jim's secretary.

"Hi Miss Rebecca, it's Dean Winchester." He had good manners when he chose to use them.

"Dean, honey, how are you? Is everything OK?" Rebecca may not be aware of hunting, but she knew that Pastor Jim was an emergency contact for the Winchester brothers.

"Yeah, everything is fine. I was just wondering if Jim is available to talk?" Now that he had finally made the call, Dean was eager to hear the older man's steady voice.

"Oh sweetie, I'm sorry, Pastor Jim is out of town until Wednesday. I can have him call you when he checks in if you like?" Rebecca sounded genuinely sorry.

"Uh, nah, I'll call him back on Wednesday. Thanks." Dean was strangely disappointed. As he hung up he realized that he had been looking forward to sharing the responsibility with an adult. He knew that Angela's situation wasn't really his to resolve, but the two girls next door felt like family, and even though he was only 15, Dean took care of his family. Besides, he didn't really know how to help. Although he admired her for escaping her father and rescuing Penny from his clutches, she was emotionally fragile in ways that were beyond his help.

Chewing his lip he thought about telling his Dad when he called tonight. He would be angry at Dean for ignoring his orders and lying to him, but Dean was confident that he wouldn't simply turn Angela into the authorities. Still uncertain, he pushed his decision to the back of his mind until Dad called.

xxxxxxx

Sam and Dean were in the middle of dinner when the phone rang once and stopped. They looked at each other. "Are you gonna tell Dad?," Sam asked, mouth full of macaroni and cheese.

"Don't talk and chew," said Dean automatically. He was already out of his chair, sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting by the room phone for it to ring again. Unclear still on what he was going to do, he bounced his knee to burn off some nervous energy. The shrill sound of the phone startled him, even though it was expected. Dean swallowed to moisten his dry mouth.

"Hello?"

"Hey Dean, it's Dad." His father sounded tired as usual, but oddly happy. "How are you and Sammy doing?"

"Good. How is Caleb? Did the hunt go OK?" Once he heard his father's voice, Dean decided to hold off on confessing until he'd had a chance to talk to Pastor Jim. Maybe if he could present a potential solution, his Dad wouldn't kill him.

"Caleb's good, he got clawed up a bit taking on a Black Dog, but he'll be fine. Barely needed stitches and he acts like he lost a leg. Such a baby!" Dad had a warm chuckle in in his voice and Dean could almost picture Caleb melodramatically moaning about his injuries. The young hunter friend of their Dad was a fun guy for someone in the life, but he could also be a bit of a drama queen. "We thought that there was only one, but it turned out it was a mated pair. But it's taken care of now." A satisfied tone was in Dad's voice and he seemed in a good mood.

"So are you headed back? Sam's birthday is next Monday and I thought we could take him out to dinner at that place he likes with the salad bar." Dean was hopeful that Dad would be heading back their way, by then. It would mean a lot for Sam to have Dad back for his special day.

"Yeah, I'm heading up that way. There's a poltergeist in Louisville that I'm going to take care of first, but I will definitely be back on Sunday." Dean made a soft scoffing noise, but his father either didn't hear it or chose to ignore it. "Look Dean, it's only 12 hours from here to Butler. Even with a stop in Louisville, it's not going to take me a week to get there. I'll make it for his birthday."

"Sure Dad, thanks." Dean tried not to buy into his Dad's promises, but surely even the most ornery of poltergeists couldn't take a week to take care of.

"Speaking of Sam, can I talk to your brother?," asked Dad. It was phrased like a request, but Dean recognized the slight chill of command in his Dad's tone. He snapped his fingers in Sam's direction and when the kid looked up, motioned him to take the phone. As Sam said hello, Dean flopped on the couch and turned the TV on low. He pretended to watch the show, but was listening closely to Sammy's side of the conversation. Hopefully Dad wouldn't get Sam's hopes up.

Most of Sam's conversation was made up of just "Yes sir, or "No sir," so there wasn't anything to gleen from his eavesdropping. After a few more minutes Sam hung up and made his way back to the couch. He curled up on the cushion next to Dean like a cat. He was tempted to reach out and run his fingers through Sam's hair, but resisted, resting his hand on the back of the couch instead.

"Dad says he's going to be back for my birthday." It was a statement, not a question. The kid was checking to see if Dean thought it would happen.

"That would be cool," the older boy said noncommittally.

"Do you think he really will, Dean?" Sam looked so hopeful. If Dean told him yes, the kid would be crushed if Dad never showed. If he told Sam no, then it would be a wonderful surprise for the kid if Dad did show up. The reality was that just Dean didn't know. His father was so focused on hunting that if something came up, birthdays, and Christmas and school events just never hit his radar, or if they did, they came a far second to killing monsters. Dean scrubbed at his tired eyes. Couldn't he just have one drama at a time? Wasn't the stuff going on with Angela enough? Sam was still looking at him with those giant eyes, as if Dean's word was law. He huffed out a sigh.

"Honestly Sam, I don't know. But I hope he will." Sammy deflated right before him. "Hey kiddo, he said he would, so let's just wait and see, OK? Either way, I'll make sure we have some fun." He could tell that Sam wasn't completely happy with his answer, but had accepted Dean's words. Sam tucked his socked feet under Dean's thigh and settled back.

"Hey Dean," Sam called. "Angela's birthday is on Saturday, do you think we could do something for her before Dad comes home." That was Sammy, always thinking, and trying to do something nice for someone else.

"I guess, what did you have in mind?," Dean asked, knowing that time and money were tight.

"I'm not totally sure yet. Do you still have that camera?," Sam asked. Last year Uncle Bobby had given Dean one of his old cameras and told him to take some pictures once in awhile. It had been a few months since Dean had even thought of his gift. He pushed himself out of the couch and pulled his duffle bag out from under the bed. At the bottom of his bag was the small case Bobby had given him. He pulled it out and opened it up to look at the black camera. Pushing the power button did nothing so Dean figured it needed batteries before Sam could do anything with it.

"Hey, throw me the remote?," Dean asked. He could take the batteries from the TV remote to check that the camera was functioning. After transferring the batteries, Dean turned it on and aimed it at Sam. The flash made Sam look a little stunned, but Dean figured the camera worked. The little window told him that there were still 11 photos left to take on that roll of film. "Here you go Sam. I'll get new batteries tomorrow at work."

Sam had a satisfied smile on his face, and that was good enough for Dean. His brother obviously had a plan, but he'd leave it to the kid. "So squirt, you want me to nuke your mac and cheese to heat it up?" Without waiting for an answer, Dean moved back towards the table and picked up Sam's plate. There was still at least half of his dinner sitting there, so he chucked it into the microwave. Picking up his own fork, he ate the last bit of his cold pasta and then dumped his plate in the sink to wash later.


	23. Chapter 23

School was the usual exercise in boredom. Dean cut out early when he could to try and catch a couple of extra hours at Hillson's. But mostly he killed time until he could go back to the motel to spend time with Sam and the girls. On Tuesday, they made plans to take in a movie. Dean had wanted to see something like the latest Steven Seagal flick, but they settled on Ace Ventura: Pet Detective as a compromise. Dean could have easily smuggled Sam into any movie, but bringing a baby into an R rated action movie seemed like a bad idea anyway. Sam and Angela were meeting him in town after his shift, so Dean was careful to bring a clean shirt to change into.

He was standing outside the town's only movie theater checking his watch when he saw them coming down the street towards him. Sam was holding Angela's hand, something he seldom let Dean do anymore. His brother's face was practically glowing with enthusiasm as he chattered away at Angela. Penny was tied onto the older girl's body in some kind of complicated wrap thing, but he could see the baby's legs kicking in excitement. Angela herself looked the same as always, jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. Maybe it was the brightly coloured piece of fabric that was wrapped around her and the baby that made her seem happier somehow. Sam spotted him and grinned, dropping Angela's hand and running the last little bit to Dean.

"Hey, Dean," he said happily. "I was just telling Angela that Jim Carrey is from Canada too!" Dean couldn't help his own grin.

"Yeah, I bet you talked her ear off the whole way here." Sam was too slow to dodge Dean's hand as he reached out and ruffled Sam's hair.

"Deeeaaaannn," he whined. He was still smiling though, so Dean knew he really didn't mind.

"It's always fun to listen to Sam. He is a very smart boy and knows all sorts of things." Angela met Dean's eyes over Sammy's head and he could have sworn that he glimpsed pride in her expression. A motorcycle growled by just then, drowning out Sam's reply, although he ducked his head to hide behind his hair, perhaps a bit embarrassed by the compliment.

"I got tickets while I was waiting, so do you guys wanna go in? Dean had to raise his voice over the traffic noise behind them, so he waved his arms, ushering them off of the busy sidewalk. As they walked into the theatre lobby, Angela leaned over to whisper to Dean.

"I've actually never seen a movie in an actual theatre before." Dean was surprised, but figured it kinda made sense since she grew up in the country. He only wished it was a better movie and a nicer theatre for her first experience.

xxxxxxx

Across the street from the movie theatre, the guy driving the motorcycle pulled off his helmet and gloves. The people on the sidewalk gave him a wide berth, he looked the part of a biker, black leather jacket with a skull on the back, well worn boots and an ugly look on his face. The guy made his way down the street for half a block before cramming into a phone booth. The biker made a call, then casting a jaundiced eye at the people closest, moved off towards the local watering hole.

xxxxxxx

Sam hadn't had such fun in a long time. He liked the movie, even though he knew it was ridiculous. Once they were back at the motel, having thoroughly discussed the move on the bus right home. Angela had offered to pay for a cab, but Dean wouldn't hear of it. They ended up in Angela's room eating cookies, as she fed Penny and got her ready for bed. Sam decided now was the right time and ran back to their room to get the camera.

"Angela," he said, "Can I take some pictures of you and Penny?," Sam had been thinking about it a lot. Soon Dad would be back and regardless of what happened with Pastor Jim, their father would be making them move again soon. When that happened, he wanted something to remember her by. Angela said yes, but seemed insecure about having her picture taken.

Dean had really gotten a kick out of the movie and was talking animatedly. It was nice to see his brother happy, so Sam took a couple of pictures of Dean too. He caught a shot of Angela holding Penny on her lap that he hoped would turn out OK. He took another grouping of Dean and Angela talking, while Penny tugged on her mother's hair. He even took one of Dean holding Penny close to his chest, the little girl snoring softly as his brother cuddled her.

"Here, let me take one of you two," Angela insisted. Sam passed the camera to the girl and stepped next to Dean who was just about to put Penny in her crib. Dean snaked out his other arm and pulled Sam close. With Penny asleep in her crib, the cookies gone and the last photo of the roll taken, Sam found himself yawning.

"Looks like you need to hit the hay, buddy," said Dean. Reluctantly Sam nodded, he really was pretty tired.

"Thanks for the movie boys," Angela said. As she saw them to the door, she leaned over and gave Sam a kiss on the cheek. "See you tomorrow," she said to them both before closing the door.

Much later, Sam was still awake, trying to figure out his feelings. Dad wasn't an affectionate guy. Sure, he'd put a hand on Sam's shoulder or chest, but Dad hadn't kissed or truly hugged him since he was little. Dean was always the one who comforted him when he was hurt, or sick, or sad. His brother made him feel so loved in other little everyday ways that he'd never really wondered about what it would be like to have a mother's affection. He'd never really needed anything else. But now, Sam wanted to ask Dean what it felt like when their mother had kissed him goodnight. But, Dean's breathing told him that his brother was asleep, so instead Sam rolled over and tried not to think about it any more.


	24. Chapter 24

While in class, Dean ignored his teachers in favor of worrying about talking to both Pastor Jim and his Dad. He even passed up a make-out session with Erin behind the bleachers at lunch. He told her it was because she was his boss's daughter, but really since learning about Angela's abuse, Dean had felt a little uncomfortable with pursuing anything too hot and heavy with Erin. Instead, he spent most of the day was spent thinking about what he wanted to say to both of the men.

Sitting on the bus on the way to work, he finally settled on what he wanted to say, and made a plan for the evening. First, he had promised to drop off Sam's roll of film for processing before work. Then after he clocked out of Hillson's, he would go to their room before going to Angela's where his brother would be. That way he could call Jim without Sammy listening in. He knew that it was best to call Jim before their father phoned, both so that he could determine how much to share with Dad over the phone, and also because their father got freaked if the line was busy when he checked in with them.

Dean spent most of his shift unloading pallets of grass seed so he didn't have to really talk to anyone. Hillson's was a fairly normal sized store, but the outside area where Dean worked the most was huge. If he wanted to, he could simply go back to the far end of the lot and goof off with a couple of the other employees, who went back there to smoke pot. But that wasn't his scene. Besides, if he was going to sacrifice his time with Sam, then Dean preferred to be doing something useful. And until he knew for sure that Dad was coming back, he needed to keep this job. Finally his shift was done, he grabbed his jacket and bag and headed back to the motel.

Letting himself in quietly, Dean could hear the low hum of Sam's voice through the thin wall. He hoped that the kid was so focused on his conversation with Angela that Sam wouldn't hear that he was back. The cord wasn't very long, but he was able to carry the phone over to the arm of the couch where he perched. Taking a calming breath he dialed the parish office.

"Parish office, how can I help you?"

"Hi Miss Rebecca, it's Dean Winchester again. Is Pastor Jim back yet?" Dean hoped Jim was free to talk, he'd spent so much time thinking about this call that he didn't want to delay it any longer.

"Oh hi Dean. Yes, the Pastor got back about an hour ago. I told him that you had phoned and he asked that I put you right through if you called back. Let me just connect you honey," and with a brief pause of buttons being pushed, the phone rang again.

"Hello Dean?" Pastor Jim's soothing voice came across the line. Dean could feel his shoulders relax and he rolled some of the tension out of his body. "Is everything Ok son?," Jim asked.

"Yeah, everything is fine with me and Sammy. But,...I uh, I wanted to talk to you about something. I need your help." In his plan, Dean was going to ask how Jim's trip had been and be generally casual, only bringing up Angela after some small talk. But hearing Jim's voice had brought a sense of relief, as if the Pastor could magically fix everything. It made Dean feel a bit like a kid again, to be able to share some of the responsibility with an adult.

"Of course Dean, you know I'll always do my best to help you. What's going on?" Jim sounded both curious and concerned.

So Dean told Pastor Jim everything. How they met Angela, about her abusive father, the money under the bed, and who Penny's Dad really was. He also confessed to Jim how Sammy and he had gotten attached to the two girls. If Pastor Jim had any comments, he kept them to himself and let Dean talk. For almost 20 minutes, he talked, until his voice went hoarse.

"Um, yeah, so that's what's been going on," Dean finished lamely.

"I see," said Jim his voice calm and confident. "I'm sure I can help her Dean, I'd like to speak with her at some point, if she is willing.' Dean heaved a sigh of relief, feeling like a heavy burden was lifted from his shoulders.

"Yeah, I'm sure she'd like to talk to you, I think she's pretty religious." Jim chuckled a little bit at that. Dean's reluctance to believe was the only sore spot between the two of them. Pastor Jim sounded slightly distracted, and Dean could hear paper shuffling. Dean knew that the reverend was already looking at his resources for ways to help Angela.

"Can John drop her and her daughter off here at the parish in the next week or so?" Jim asked.

"Well," Dean dragged a hand across the back of his neck, "See, that's the thing, Dad doesn't know any of this." This was the sticky part. The rustling papers stopped.

"Dean, why have you hidden this from your Dad?" Jim sounded patient, but Dean knew that the Pastor had strong beliefs about lying.

"Dad knows about Angela and Penny, just not that we've been spending so much time together. Uh, he thinks she's some kind of teenage hooker who's looking for a meal ticket. But Angela isn't like that at all." The relief that Dean had been feeling siphoned away like water in the bathtub. Pastor Jim was going to make him tell his Dad the whole story and Dad was going to be majorly pissed. He knew that was going to happen, but he had foolishly hoped that they could keep Dad out of this.

"Dean," the disapproving tone told Dean that his guess was right. "You know better than to lie to your father. He is not going to be happy about that." Jim sighed, "when is John coming back?" Disappointing their friend made Dean ashamed, but he still knew there was no way Dad would have listened if he'd tried to make a case for the girl when they'd first met Angela. Besides, he didn't mean to feel anything for them. But now the girls felt like family and Dean was stuck with no choice but to fill in their Dad and take whatever punishment his Dad gave him.

"He should be back Sunday. Dad promised he'd be home for Sammy's birthday which is Monday," Dean said in a subdued voice. Figuring he might as well get everything out on the table, "but he'll be calling tonight to check in." Pastor Jim let out a sigh. Dean stayed quiet and let the man of faith ponder his next words.

"Ok. Dean I'm going to start working on getting some help for Angela and her baby. I would like you to have her call me tomorrow around this time." Dean nodded in agreement despite the fact that Jim couldn't see him. "And tonight, when John calls, you are going to tell him everything you told me." It wasn't a request. Jim might be a calm and peaceful man, but underneath his gentle ways was a hunter who still expected his instructions to be followed.

"Yes sir," Dean replied automatically reacting to the tone of command. He could hear Jim sigh again.

"Son, I'm not John. You don't have to 'Yes sir' me. But your father does deserve to be brought up to speed on this. You know Dean, your Dad might surprise you. Don't count him out." The last part was said with compassion.

"No, I understand. Thanks Jim, for helping Angela. I'll talk to Dad tonight and have Angela call you tomorrow." Dean doubted that Dad was going to be anything other than angry at him, but he didn't want to contradict the preacher.

"Dean, I'm proud of you son, for wanting to help this girl," said JIm. Dean smiled at that compliment. Pastor Jim's respect meant something to him and he was glad that he hadn't lost it entirely. "Now, you give Sam a hug for me and let him know I have a little birthday present for him next time you guys are here OK?" Dean assured him that he would and then they said their goodbyes. Dean put the phone back and flopped down on his bed, arm over his eyes. He was tired and hungry, but dreading the phone call that he knew was coming.

Just then he heard the key in the lock and Sam pushed open the door. "Dean?," Sammy asked scanning the room until he saw Dean on the bed. "What's wrong?," he asked, climbing up on the end of the bed.

"Nothing Sammy, I just talked to Pastor Jim. Did Angela throw you out?," he teased, knowing their friend wouldn't do anything like that.

"No, but I heard your voice through the wall and I wanted to make sure you were Ok." It was nice to know that Sam worried about him, but that was the big brother's job, so Dean rearranged his face and gave the kid a smile.

"Of course I'm OK, squirt. I just didn't want to tell Pastor Jim the whole story in front of Angela." That wasn't the only reason, but it was a big part of it and all that Sam needed to know about right now.

"So, is Pastor Jim going to help her?" Sam gnawed on a fingernail.

"Yeah, c'mon, you knew he would. Jim is a good guy. He told me, to tell you, that he has a birthday present for you that you can have next time we see him." Dean enjoyed the pleased look on Sam's face. It was nice to know that there were people out there like Jim, who cared about his little brother. "Um, Jim made me promise to tell Dad about everything when he calls tonight." Ok, so Jim hadn't actually made him promise, but Dean had said he would and he didn't go back on his word. Sam looked a little scared.

"Dad's gonna kill us Dean," he said.

"Nah, he'll be pissed for a bit, but it'll be OK Sammy." He was determined to make sure that any punishment fell mostly on his shoulders. It was his bright idea to check on the crying baby in the first place.

There was a soft knock on the door and Sam jumped up to answer it. Dean barely reached him before he got to the door. He yanked Sam back and pushed him behind his body.

"Dude, you don't know who it is!" One of their many rules is that Sam didn't open the door unless it was Dean or Dad. Sam shot him a dirty look and dragged his feet to the bathroom. Dean heard him grumble beneath his breath, but he chose to let it go for now.

He put his eye to the peephole in the door and saw that it was Angela waiting patiently outside their room. Dean pulled the door open and gestured her in. Scanning the parking lot as usual, he saw nothing out of the ordinary, just a couple of cars in front of some rooms and a black motorcycle. He let them in, then closed the door behind her. She had Penny in one arm and was balancing a tea towel covered dish on the other.

"Since you didn't come over, I brought you some dinner." Dean took the baby and wiped the drool from Penny's face with the edge of his flannel shirt. Angela put the wrapped dish on the counter and Sam poked his head out of the bathroom. Seeing it was Angela, Sam came out and joined the two teens.

"Dean was talking to Pastor Jim, Angela and he said that he's help you and Penny." Dean had wanted to tell her himself, but Sam could never keep from blurting out news. Angela looked at Dean expectantly.

"Yeah, he's gonna help, but he'd like to talk to you tomorrow if that's OK? I'll call him after work for you. I have a feeling he wants to make sure that you're OK with whatever he's planning," said Dean. Angela smiled and nodded, tucking her hair back behind her ear. Dean bounced the baby on his hip and wiped more drool off her little face. "Looks like Penny's started teething," he knew he was changing the subject, but the way Angela was looking at him - all grateful, like he was some kind of hero or something. Well, it made him uncomfortable.

"Is that why she's been drooling all the time," asked Sam as he pretended to hide from Penny behind his hands. "Peek-a-boo," he said. Penny laughed and reached for Sam's hands. Angela took back the baby, holding her so that Penny could still see Sam.

Tossing her head towards the dish she said, "you should eat before it gets cold." Unfolding the towel, Dean saw a casserole dish with most of a shepherd's pie in it. He got a plate and spooned himself out a serving. Watching Sam work to make Penny laugh, he sat and ate.

In a little while, Angela took Penny back to her room to get her ready for bed. She insisted on leaving the rest of the casserole for them. Sam was curled up with a book, while Dean sorted some laundry. He would have to get some done tomorrow. His hands were busy, but his brain was occupied with trying to figure out how angry Dad was going to be. When the phone rang once, he jumped, startled in a way he usually wasn't.


	25. Chapter 25

When the phone rang again, Dean picked it up at the first ring. "Hi Dad," he said certain of who was calling.

"Hey Dean, how are you and Sam doing?" Dad cut to the chase and Dean tried not to read too much into that. Dad was often abrupt when his mind was on a hunt.

"We're fine. How are you? Did you get that poltergeist?," Dean asked. He sat on the side of the bed and made eye contact with Sam who made his way over and sat beside him. Dean smiled wryly at his kid brother. Sam just gave him a firm nod, silently offering his solidarity.

"Good, I got the poltergeist, but caught another case. Don't worry, it's here in Louisville, so I'll still make it back for Sunday." Normally Dad making it back for Sam's birthday would be his biggest worry, but tonight Dean knew he had more important stuff to talk about.

"That's great Dad." Dean knew his father would pick up on the anxiety in his voice. He could almost see how Dad had stopped whatever he was doing to focus exclusively on the phone. Dean had seen his father do that exact move many times over his life.

"Dean, what's going on?," Dad said, his tone instantly no nonsense.

"Um, well you remember that girl, Angela, I was telling you about a few weeks ago?," Dean began. Dad interrupted anger already creeping into his voice.

"You mean the girl with the baby? The girl I specifically told you to stay away from?" Once again Dad cut right to it.

"Uh, yeah, Angela. But before you get mad, Dad, she's not what you think. She's not some kind of truck stop slut." Dean was eager to defend their friend, but Dad was having none of it.

"I don't care what she is, I told you to stay away from her," Dad said, his voice beginning to rise along with his temper.

"I know Dad, but she needed our help and…" Dad cut Dean off.

"So you slept with her!" his father accused.

"What! No!," Dean was almost shouting and paused to lower his voice. Dad would tolerate only so much disrespect, especially when he was already angry that they had ignored his orders. Besides he was freaking out Sam who was gnawing on his fingernails beside him. "I didn't, I would never...look Dad, her father molested her, that's why she's on the run. She's just a friend." Dad sighed in frustration. Dean could tell he was about to speak and rushed to finish before Dad began again. "We've been spending time with her and she's really nice, but she needs to make sure her father doesn't find her. Her Dad is really bad news." That was an understatement, but Dean didn't have time to elaborate, he had to present his solution before Dad flipped out. "I called Pastor Jim and he's agreed to help her, but he insisted that I tell you."

"Jim Murphy is involved in this fiasco?" Dad didn't sound less angry, and Dean hoped that Jim wasn't going to get a blast of angry John Winchester.

"Yeah, he said if we can get Angela and Penny to Blue Earth, he'll help them get settled. She's only 16, so she can't do it by herself." He purposely failed to mention that her birthday was in a couple of days, knowing Dad had some compassion for kids in trouble.

"What does this girl want in return for your help," Dad asked, making the word "help" sound like a dirty innuendo. Dean couldn't help being frustrated and a bit hurt that Dad thought so little of him. Just cause he enjoyed the company of willing girls in each town they visited, didn't mean that he would ever take advantage of anyone. Besides, he wasn't as experienced as he let everyone believe.

"Nothing, she doesn't need money," he said stiffly, refusing to address what Dad was implying. Dad sighed again and the scratchy sound of his palm on his whiskered chin was loud enough to hear over the phone.

"Let me speak to your brother," Dad ordered. Dean really didn't want Sammy to get pulled into this, but he couldn't see any other choice. He passed the receiver to Sam who looked frightened, but put the phone to his ear. Dean paced between the two beds and listened to Sam's side of the conversation.

"Hi Dad, Yes sir, No sir, No sir!" This last one was said fiercely and Dean hoped that Sam's word would be enough for Dad. "But she….We had to….She's like a sister...No!" Dean could see that Sam was getting angry and he tried to take the phone away before his brother started a fight. Sam was too quick and dodged out of Dean's reach. "Her father...!" Sam hissed, furiously, cut off once again. Obviously Dad had a lot to say because Sam was quiet for a long moment. Dean could see the fight drain out of Sam as quickly as it had come. But now there were tears forming in the kid's eyes and his voice was quiet. "Yes sir, I understand, OK, Bye Dad." Sam thrust the phone at Dean and when he took it, his brother darted into the bathroom and closed the door.

"Dad?," Dean asked tentatively.

"Dean, look, I know you and Sam meant well. It's dangerous for you two to be alone so much, but I got a job to do and I need you to be responsible." Dean didn't say anything and Dad continued. "I'll meet this girl on Sunday and I'll decide what will happen then, OK?" There wasn't really any room for negotiation at this point, but Dean figured it could be a lot worse.

"Yeah, OK," he replied with as much good grace as he could muster.

"I know you brother's upset, so I'll let you go, and I will see you on Sunday." Dad sounded tired again and Dean felt a throb of guilt that he had given his father something else to worry about.

After they said their goodbyes and hung up, Dean took a few calming breaths. He walked over and knocked softly on the bathroom door. "Sammy?," he called, hoping that Sam hadn't locked himself in. His brother turned the knob, but kept his back to the door as Dean pushed it carefully open and joined Sam in the small room. He could see the kid's slim shoulders shake with silent tears so Dean reached out and pulled Sammy to him, wrapping his arms around the youngster. Sam turned and pressed his face to Dean's stomach.

"Why won't Dad ever listen?," Sam sniffled, the question muffled by Dean's shirt. He ran his hand over Sammy's hair.

"I don't know Sam, I don't know." Dean just stood there holding the kid until Sam got himself back under control. When Sam seemed calmer, he pulled back and looked down at his brother. Reaching over, he grabbed a wad of tissues and wiped Sam's running nose. The younger boy grabbed the paper from his hand and blew his nose, but he had half a smile on his face now.

"Sorry," Sam said sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it kiddo," Dean reassured his brother. But with all the drama of the last few hours, Dean was beat. It had been a long day with school, work, and the stressful conversations with both Pastor Jim and their Dad. With a final squeeze of Sam's shoulder, he said "It's getting late squirt, why don't you brush your teeth and get ready, and you can tell me all about school until bedtime." Sam left to go fetch his pyjamas, and Dean took the moment to splash some water over his face and brush his own teeth.

Soon they were settled on the couch, Sammy a warm weight against his side. Before the first commercial, the boy was sound asleep, so Dean carefully picked him up and deposited him into his bed. He spent a little while, tidying the room, and getting the laundry for tomorrow organized, then he checked the salt lines and the locks and got ready for bed himself.


	26. Chapter 26

John hung up the phone. He was not very happy with his sons right now. Although as Sam had gotten older, he'd become occasionally defiant and moody, he could usually count on Dean to be reliable and follow orders. John wasn't sure what to think. His first instinct was that his eldest had been tempted by a shrewd young woman, looking for a good time or an easy mark. But Sam had confirmed that his brother was not having sex with this girl. So maybe she wasn't the conniving tramp John had originally suspected her to be. Either way, the girl had both his boys firmly under her spell. And that was an actual concern. This girl could be a witch or a shapeshifter or even a bloody demon and have some kind of supernatural hold on his sons. He shook off those dark thoughts. If the point was to hurt them, or use them as bait to get to him, then she likely would have done so over the past weeks.

It was possible that the girl was as his boys had described her, a lost soul in need of help. Not that the Winchester family could afford to get attached. He realized that he had been so angry at being disobeyed that he hadn't really given the boys a chance to tell the whole story of the girl. Picking up the phone again, he dialed Jim Murphy's number. Apparently his sons had told their Pastor friend everything. John felt a pang of sorrow that his children hadn't turned to him for help first. It reflected something that he knew was missing in his relationship with Sam and Dean. He knew that he wasn't the father they deserved, but he didn't know how to be just a Dad anymore. With a click, Jim picked up.

"Hi Jim, it's John Winchester," he explained.

"Of course John, I figured you'd be calling tonight. I assume you've talked to Dean?," Jim's patient and calm voice irritated John slightly.

"Yeah, he told me that they'd both been lying to me for weeks. And apparently you are now going to help that girl they've been palling around with." He didn't try and hide the irritation in his voice. He appreciated Jim, and the man was a one of the few people he felt he could trust in the hunter community. But he didn't like the Pastor stepping between him and his sons.

"John," Jim sighed, "did they explain to you what Angela has been going through?"

"Dean said that the girl's dad is abusive. She's not the first kid who had a tough time at home, they can't get involved with every stray and runaway. It's not safe. What if CPS caught wind of the girl? Dean and Sam could easily be taken away from me." John choked a little on the last part. Losing his kids was the worst thing he could ever imagine. When Mary died, the boys were the only thing he had left that mattered. Jim kindly ignored the moment of weakness.

"I don't think she's a typical runaway, John. She is running to save her daughter's life. Her father has been molesting her for years." John felt a little sick at that. "The baby she has with her, is the product of that incest. Apparently her father killed the first child he got her pregnant with, at least that's what she confessed to Dean and Sam. The girl is extremely isolated, her mother and brother disappeared mysteriously and, according to Dean, she has a large amount of cash - likely stolen from her father. If even half of this is true, then the girl is in grave danger if her father should find her."

John let the words sink in. He knew that the worst monsters were human. That was one more thing he lost sleep worrying about when it came to his kids, especially Sammy. But what this girl had experienced was horrifying. Grudgingly John realized that maybe he had misjudged the girl. He saw her only as a threat to his sons, but she was just a year or so older than Dean, frightened and desperate and doing anything to save her child. Jim cleared his throat, drawing John's attention back to the phone.

"So what's your plan, Jim?," he asked, finally on board with trying to help.

"I'm going to talk to Angela tomorrow night, get a feel for the girl and talk through my suggestions. If everything goes well, I was hoping you and the boys could bring her her to Blue Earth. One of my parishioners is a therapist who has agreed to see her pro-bono. I'm also lining up some medical visits and a safe place for them to stay. One of my hunter contacts is going to set her up with a new identity until we're sure she's safe."

"Alright, I can bring her to you. I've got wind of a cursed object I need to track down, so I wasn't planning on making it back to the boys until Sunday. Sammy's birthday is Monday. The drive from Butler will be about 14-15 hours, so we can be there by dinner on Wednesday. Does that work?" John wasn't sure how he was going to handle four kids in the car, but he'd figure something out.

"That sounds great John, thank you." Jim's voice radiated a warmth that John found oddly comforting. "Give me a call tomorrow and I'll fill you in on my impressions of Angela. You know Dean is an excellent judge of character, so I'm sure that she'll check out." John was going to say his goodbyes and wrap up the call, when Jim spoke again. "John, you should be proud of your boys. They shouldn't have lied, but they were doing the very thing you've taught them...saving people." And with that, Jim said goodnight and John hung up the phone.

John shrugged out of his coat and poured himself a cup of coffee. He was tired, but he had research to do on the potential cursed objects from a local estate sale. As he dug out the materials he'd gathered, he thought about what Jim had said. Dean and Sam were good kids, and he'd have to remember to tell them that more often.

xxxxxxxx

Dean handed Sam a pile of freshly cleaned t-shirts. "Here, fold these." Sam was moody tonight. He had wanted to stay with Angela, but not only did they need to get some laundry done, Dean felt that Angela needed some privacy for her talk with Pastor Jim. They were almost done, so Dean decided to tell Sam that he had picked up the photos that his brother had taken the other day. Hopefully it would improve Sam's sour mood.

"So, you never did tell me what your plan was for Angela's birthday present? I got the photos back if you want to see them?" Dean patted his jacket pocket. Sam perked up immediately from where he was slouched against the washing machine.

"Really, lemme see!" Dean dodged out of the way of Sam's hands.

"Oh no, not until we get back to the room squirt!" Dean continued to bob and weave as Sam tried to dig into his jacket. Both boys were laughing and Dean snaked his arms around Sammy from behind, pinning the younger boy tight to his chest. Sam pushed back with his feet, trying to knock Dean off balance. It was a good move, one Dean had taught the kid himself, but he was still too small to do more than move his older brother a step or two.

"Deaaannnn," Sam whined. Not wanting to frustrate Sam too much, Dean let go with one hand so that he could tickle Sam with the other. With a giggled shriek, Sam lunged away to get beyond tickle range. Dean let him go and turned back to switch the last wet load into the dryer. Then, putting an exaggerated predatory look on his face, Dean turned to stalk Sam, fingers wiggling with the threat of more tickles.

As the dryer tumbled, Dean and Sam chased each other around the appliances until, worn out, Sammy flopped down on the wooden bench, the only seating in the room. Panting a little to catch his breath, Dean sat beside the smaller boy. They watched the mesmerizing spin of their clothes in the dryer for a while until Sam spoke.

"What do you think Dad is going to do on Sunday about Angela? Do you think he'll help us get her to Pastor Jim?" Dean thought about it. He figured Dad would have spoken with Jim by now and since he hadn't rushed back to get them yet, or called to set new orders, Dean assumed that Jim and Dad had come to some kind of agreement.

"Yeah, I do. I'm sure everything will work out," said Dean confidently.

"It's been nice," Sam said wistfully and nestled in closer to Dean's side. "I'm going to miss them." The brothers resumed watching the dryer and Dean put his arm around his kid. He knew what Sammy was talking about. Beyond having grown to care about the girls, losing the sense of normal that spending the time with Angela and Penny had created was going sting.

"Hey, they're not gone yet. We're going to see them for two more days. And we're going to celebrate Angela's birthday on Saturday, right?" It always killed him to see his little brother sad. He could feel Sam nod halfheartedly against his side. Dean wanted to cheer Sam up. "Did you want to see those pictures now?," he said, hoping to coax some enthusiasm out of his brother.

"Yes," said Sam, slightly suspicious. Dean dug the packet of photos out of his jacket pocket and handed them to Sammy. The youngster flipped open the packet and pulled out a stack of glossy pictures. Holding them where Dean could see them too, he began to look through them.

The first bunch were from when Bobby had originally given Dean the camera. There were a couple of Bobby himself that Dean had taken at the salvage yard. There were four candid shots of Sam. Dean had caught a nice one of Sammy sitting the in sunshine. His brother hadn't noticed Dean, so Dean was able to catch him laughing at something Bobby's dog had been doing. Dean was surprised to see a couple of himself that Dad had taken. Dean thought that he looked stupid, with a big grin on his face. Those two he might get rid of.

A few more pictures were blurry shots of unrecognizable things Dean had tried to photograph through the window of the car. Finally the last of the old shots were two that Dean had forgotten. In the first he and Sam were sitting at Bobby's table, both of them were smiling at each other, although Dean had no idea over what. The second was one that Bobby had taken of him, Sam and Dad standing next to the impala. He remembered that one, but until he saw the photo, he had forgotten how Dad had put his arm around Dean's shoulder, his other hand resting on the top of Sam's head. Dean really liked this shot of their little family. Perhaps this was one he'd show to his Dad.

The photographs of Angela and Penny were pretty good. Dean was taken with one shot where Penny was on Angela's lap. The older girl was smiling at the baby, even though her face was partially hidden by her curtain of hair. It reminded Dean of a painting in Pastor Jim's church. There was another one he liked. It was of Penny. She was sleeping, her tiny mouth in a cute pucker. Dean had been holding her against his chest and Sam had caught part of his face in the photo too. Critical of himself, Dean thought he looked a little sappy, but he remembered the surge of affection he'd had for the little girl in his arms at the time. Sam had caught at least some of that on Dean's face.

The rest were more of the same, mostly with just Angela and Penny, a few that included Sam that Dean had taken,and the one of him and Sam with Penny that Angela had insisted on taking.

"What are you going to do with them Sam?," Dean asked. He knew his brother had something in mind.

"Oh, I made a picture frame at school last week and I thought I would put one of the photos in it and give it to her. She doesn't have anything from her home, not even a picture of her mother." Sam ducked his head, avoiding Dean's eyes.

"That's nice Sam, I'm sure she'll love it." Sometimes Dean forgot that Sam was still a little kid. One who might make a photo frame out of popsicle sticks and foam and need reassurance that his gift would be appreciated. Sam seemed a lot more mature than the other kids in his class. Perhaps it was because his brother was so smart. The kid was always curious about things most children his age didn't even know existed.

With a final moan, the dryer spun to a stop. Dean pulled the clothes out and began to fold, tucking everything neatly into a duffle. Sam was still flicking through the photos, but he followed Dean back to their room.


	27. Chapter 27

A little while later, there was a soft knock on the door. Sam was already in the bathroom brushing his teeth, so Dean checked to see who it was, then opened the door when it was Angela standing there, Penny hoisted onto her hip.

"Hey Angela, c'mon in," he moved back to let her pass, automatically scanning the parking lot for anything out of the ordinary.

"I'm sorry to come by so late," Angela began, bouncing a fretful Penny as she spoke. "I had a long talk with your friend Pastor Jim, and he's going to help me. Thank you so much for calling him for me. I was so scared, but with his help, I think maybe things are going to be Ok." Her voice was a bit shaky and there were dried tear tracks on her face. Dean ushered her to a chair and had her sit. Taking a good look at Penny's drooly face, he went and got the frozen washcloth from the freezer. He set it down to let it warm up a few minutes and sat across from the girls.

"I'm glad. Jim's a good guy and he'll make sure everything works out OK." Dean was truly relieved. It would be easier saying goodbye to Angela and Penny knowing that they were in good hands. Sam came out of the bathroom just then, face freshly washed and dressed in his pyjamas. He stopped by his bag and then came over to join them at the table.

"Hi Angela. Did you have a good talk with Pastor Jim," he asked. When she nodded, he smiled at her. Dean could tell that Sam had lots of questions, but his brother could see how emotional Angela was, and Dean was proud that Sam restrained himself. Instead, the kid laid a photo on the table. "Did you want to see what our Dad looks like?," Sam asked.

The photo was the one of the three Winchesters. Sam shoved it across the table towards the girl. Dean stood and collected Penny from Angela to free up her hands. Cuddling Penny, he handed the baby the frozen cloth to chew. Angela thanked him and picked up the photo. She spent a long time looking at it then slid it back over to Sam.

"You look a little like your Dad, Sam." She seemed a little tense, but she continued "You were right, he looks like he could be very frightening, but he has a nice smile in the photo." Sam picked up the photo and looked at it intently.

"People say that I look like Dad, but I don't really see it. Dad once told me that Dean looks like a boy version of our Mom, but I don't remember her. I've only seen a couple of pictures." Sam's words cut into Dean and he hid his face in Penny's soft curls. He didn't know that Dad had told that to Sam. Thinking of his Mom in any way hurt so much that he generally buried his memories of her, but it did make him feel happy to think that he looked a bit like his mother.

"Speaking of your Dad, Pastor Jim told me that he will be here on Sunday and then you're all going to take me to Blue Earth. I'm a little nervous. The Pastor warned me that your Dad isn't very happy about you two helping me." Angela was agitated. She got up and began to pace and gave Dean a significant look. "I'm sorry I've got you two into trouble with your Dad, I hope he isn't too angry." Dean realized that in her experience, an angry father could mean violent abuse, so he was quick to reassure her.

"Look Dad might be pissed, but he'll just make us do some extra training or something. Don't worry," Dean said, hoping she got his message. He didn't want to open up this conversation in front of Sam. Sure, Dad could sometimes lose his temper, especially when he had been drinking, but it wasn't anything like what Angela went through. She seemed a bit calmer and made an effort to sit back down. She reached out to take Penny back and Dean reluctantly passed the baby back. Sam proceeded to share his day with Angela while she watched Penny chew.

Dean listened to Sam chatter on with half an ear as he split the clean laundry between Sam's duffle and his own. Their Dad had trained them to be ready to go with 10 minutes notice, so both boys tended to keep their stuff packed, even when they were in the same place for a while. He glanced at his watch and broke into their conversation.

"Sam, sorry to interrupt, but it's getting late and you need to get to bed." Dean didn't want to break things up, but if Sam didn't get enough sleep he was going to be cranky and emotional the next day. Besides, once Dad came back, sleep could be hard to come by. Angela took the hint and stood to leave giving Sam a one armed hug. Sam caressed Penny's sleepy head and then Dean walked their friend to the door.

"I'll see you both tomorrow, goodnight Sam, goodnight Dean," Angela said before stepping out into the night. Dean scanned the lot and waited until she went into her room and he heard the door lock. Then fixing the salt line, he closed and locked their own door, and ushered Sam to bed.

xxxxxxx

Maurice drove past the "Welcome to Butler" sign. It was late and all he wanted was a beer and a bed. But first his truck needed gas. He resented having to drive the truck instead of his beloved Harley, but he needed the space the truck to could provide. Maurice pulled into a Gas-n-Sip on the outskirts of the city. He shrugged on his jacket, admiring his colours while he did. He might not have his bike tonight, but that didn't mean he was some pansy ass cager. As he was pumping his gas, he thought about his next course of action.

First thing in the morning, he'd better touch base with the guy who had called him. Tucker had seen his daughter in this town and could point him in the right direction. The damn bitch had stolen his money which had put him in a dicey situation with the boss. Luckily the big man had more important things to worry about then a runaway, so Maurice had been given time to fix the situation. He'd had to sell a couple of things, to replace the money, and that made Maurice mad. He didn't like to part with things that were his, and Angela was his. When he found her, he was going to make damn sure that she didn't forget it, even if he had to beat it into her more than once.

Finishing filling the tank, Maurice went inside to pay. The kid behind the counter looked bored, around Angela's age. "Pump two," the biker said. The boy did his thing with the register and Maurice slapped down some cash. Grabbing the change the clerk had slid his way, Maurice was about to leave when he had an idea.

"So," he read the kid's name tag. "Uh, Brandon, you wouldn't happen to know of a girl, new in town. She's got really long brown hair and she'd be travelling with a baby?" Maurice doubted Angela had been hanging around the local high school, but it didn't hurt to ask. A town this size, a teenager with a baby might stick out. Brandon narrowed his eyes, obviously sizing up the situation. Maurice knew how to play this game. He slid a twenty across the counter.

"She has an accent like me?," he prompted. Brandon palmed the cash.

"I think so. I saw a girl like that with a guy I know from school," said Brandon. Maurice glared at the kid and he could see the boy squirm a little in fear. "Uh, his name is Dean Winchester," Brandon provided in a rush.

"And where can I find this Dean Winchester?," Maurice asked, tired and done screwing around with the teenager. He snaked a hand out and grabbed the kid's shirt, dragging Brandon halfway over the countertop.

"I don't know - honest!" The boy was stammering in fear. "He works for Hillson's weekdays after school, so you can find him there." As he let go of Brandon's shirt, Maurice shoved the kid hard enough to hit the case of cigarettes behind him. Enjoying the frightened look on the teenager's face, Maurice grabbed a Zippo from a nearby display and with a smirk put it into his pocket and walked out.

Later the next day, Maurice watched from across Hillson's parking lot as a tall, good looking teenager slung bags of fertilizer and grass seed. He'd asked one of the cashiers to point this Winchester kid out, but for now he was content to just watch and size up the boy. When the kid clocked out, Maurice followed his bus until Dean got out at a cheap motel. He was surprised. The place was the rent by hour type of dump, so Maurice knew the boy wasn't local. So what was Dean's deal, and how was Angela mixed into this? Part of him wanted to follow the kid to his room and kick his ass. Angela better not be slutting around with this pretty boy. But he figured that he had some time. He'd stake out the place tomorrow and make sure Angela was really there before doing anything. He certainly didn't want to tip his hand to the cops by punching out a kid. Instead, he drove off to do a little more thinking and to get a beer at the local clubhouse. Once he found his girl, he was going to make her pay.


	28. Chapter 28

Sam was awake very early on Saturday, just after sunrise. Today was Angela's birthday and he wanted to put the photo he'd picked into the wooden frame that he'd made. Mr. Morrison, the shop teacher had shown him how to use the scroll saw and he thought his frame had turned out nice. He and Dean had spent the last two evenings with the girls, so Sam hadn't had time to complete his present. With Dad coming home tomorrow, Dean had gotten stricter about training and bedtime, so the past few days had been a little rushed.

He'd picked the photo with Angela holding Penny because it made him think about his own mother. It bothered Sam that he knew so little about the woman who had been his Mom. Dean had told him a little bit, especially when he was younger, but she still had questions. When he was a kid, Sam hadn't realized how painful it was for his brother to talk about Mom but now, he never wanted to hurt Dean, so he had stopped asking. But he hoarded every little thing he could learn about her from the two older members of his family.

Dad once had shown him a picture of Mom. It was around Halloween. Dad always drank a lot more than usual that time of year and once Sam had caught his father talking to the picture. Dad had tears in his eyes as he had shown Sam a photo of his pretty blonde mother. She had her arms around him as a tiny baby and Dean as a little boy. He wished he could remember the moment that photo was taken. So Sam had gotten the idea for Angela's present, thinking that someday Penny might like to see this picture of her with her mother.

Dean was still in bed, his soft breathing a familiar comfort. Taking some newsprint, Sam wrapped the framed photo. He had also made a card for Angela and with his tongue tucked firmly between his teeth, he carefully wrote "Happy Birthday" inside the card. Then he signed it and left a spot of Dean to sign it too.

That important project done, Sam went and got his book to curl up on the couch by the sliding door. Just as he had the first morning, he saw Angela sitting on the log, wrapped in a blanket, steaming mug in hand. He swiftly pulled on his shoes and put one of Dean's thick hoodies on over his t-shirt. Then, remembering last time, he wrote a quick note on the motel notepad and left it on his pillow for Dean. Quietly, he slipped out of the room and walked over to where Angela was sitting.

"Hi Angela, Happy Birthday," he said with a grin. It was funny that his birthday and Angela's were almost exactly 6 years apart.

"Hi Sam, thank you," she replied with a smile. She flipped open the edge of the blanket and just as he had a month ago, he joined her in the warm nest. He leaned against her briefly to get her attention.

"Whatcha thinking about?" She leaned back for a moment before answering.

"I was just watching the sunrise, and thinking about tomorrow. It's been kind of like a vacation to stay here and meet you and Dean. I've been peaceful and happy - happier than I have been in a long time. But tomorrow, when your father comes back, things will start to happen. My life is going to change again. And even though I believe it will change for the better, I will miss this month that I've spent with you and your brother." She reached out and fondly tucked a strand of hair behind his ear.

Sam was touched that she cared about them, and sad to think that after Dad brought her to Pastor Jim, that he might not see her again. He could feel the pull of tears, and his voice got squeaky with emotion.

"I'm gonna miss you too, Angela," Sam said. Impulsively he wrapped his arms around her. She stiffened slightly, but then hugged him back with her free hand. Resting her head on his, she squeezed him lightly. They stayed like that for a moment and then she straightened up and caressed his cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had leaked out.

"Please don't be upset, Sam, you know, we still have today," she reassured him. "We're gonna go to the park again, and spend lots of time together. Then I'm going to make a nice dinner for us all - OK?" Sam sniffed and rubbed his nose on the sleeve of Dean's hoodie.

"Everything Ok?" His brother's voice came from behind them before Sam could respond. Normally Sam would have been upset at himself for not hearing Dean's footsteps, but right now, he didn't care. Dean came and stood beside them both, still in his pyjamas too with his jacket over top. Angela responded for the both of them.

"Yes, I was just telling Sam how much I'm going to miss you both." Sam could see that Dean was still a little concerned, having seen his damp eyes. Dean was making the face that he made every time Sam cried. Sam budged over a little on the log and patted it, meaning for Dean to join them. Dean swung a leg over the log and straddled it, facing Sam and Angela. His brother reached over and gripped Sam's knee.

"I'm Ok, Dean, just a little sad," Sam confessed. Dean looked up at Angela who was watching them both.

"I am too, Sam," Dean revealed. Sam was shocked. His big brother didn't like to show his feelings very often. Usually that sort of admission was something Dean would only make to Sam. Dean cleared his throat and glanced away, "But you know, we have big plans for today's celebration, don't we Sammy?," Dean declared. Sam nodded reluctantly, not wanting this moment to end. The three of them sat quietly, just sharing each other's company and the early morning sunshine.

Unexpectedly, Sam had a strange feeling, come over him. As if this moment was fragile and if he moved or spoke, that something special would be broken. Afraid even to breath too hard, he tried to record every second in his memory because somehow he felt that it was important. But, when the sound of Penny crying drifted from Angela's open door, her thin wail broke the moment.

Angela nudged him and said, "I'd better get Penny her breakfast. I'll see you guys at 10:30, right?"

"Yup," confirmed Sam. "Thanks for sharing your blanket." Sam detangled himself from the warm cover and let Angela return to her room. Instead of following Dean who was going back inside, he sat back down on the log. Dean stopped and looked back at him, but Sam ignored him, trying to recapture that strange feeling.

"You Ok, Sammy?," Dean asked, walking back and sitting down again.

"Yeah, I just feel…." he fell silent as he searched for the right word. Dean seemed to sense his mood because his brother was quiet, waiting for Sam. "I don't know, just like something is about to go wrong somehow." Sam knew that sounded lame, he was frustrated that he couldn't describe it any better. Dean nudged him with his shoulder.

"Sam, I know that saying goodbye to the girls is gonna be hard, but everything will work out. C'mon, let's get some breakfast." With that Dean pulled Sam to his feet, and slung an arm around him as they walked back inside.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. They spent lunch and afternoon at the park. Penny had figured out how to crawl around on her tummy, and Sam had rolled a ball back and forth with her. She had enough grip now to pick up her toys and bang them together. It was fascinating how much the baby had grown in just the month that they had known her. When Penny mad sounds like "sa,ma," it sounded like she was saying his name, which was a thrill for Sam. He wondered what his life would have been like if he had been an older sibling to a little sister or brother. There was no doubt in Sam's mind that he couldn't have been as good a big brother as Dean, but it would have been neat to have a bigger family.

Once they'd returned to the motel, Sam and Dean went to clean up for dinner. He got his present for Angela and had Dean sign his card. His brother had picked up a small cake at the bakery near his work, so they each had their hands full when they knocked on Angela's door.

"Hi Dean, hi Sam." Angela greeted them. She graciously took the little cake box and Sam's newspaper wrapped package and put them on the table. Picking up her oven mitts, she left them to close the door and get comfortable. Sam perched at the table, eager to watch as she checked on the contents of the oven, then as she began to prepare a salad. Dean went over and picked up Penny who was sitting and banging some blocks together in her crib.


	29. Chapter 29

With a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure that Sam was occupied chatting with and watching Angela, Dean went over to the baby.

"There's my girl," he cooed in a soft voice. Leaning over he scooped Penny up and held her close to his chest. Dean could tell that Angela must have recently given Penny a bath, because she smelled like shampoo and baby powder. It hurt to think that after tomorrow, she and Angela might be out of their lives for good. A lump formed in his throat that he tried manfully to swallow. He knew he should be happy for them getting a chance a new life, but as he cuddled the small body, he felt his heart break just a little. Guys his age weren't supposed to like babies, it was girly and soft, but right now, Dean didn't give a damn. So much of his world was difficult and hard, that he could appreciate a touch of girly in his life once in a while, as long as no one else knew about it.

He sat on the floor by the end of the bed, with one knee up and the other leg stretched out beside Penny's pink blanket. She squirmed in his arms, so he set her down between his legs. Apparently that wasn't what she wanted as little hands grasped at his bent knee and using his jeans she pulled herself up onto her wobbly legs. Surprised she stood blinking at him, keeping her balance against Dean's leg. He didn't want to startle her, so he called quietly, "Angela!"

The older girl didn't hear him, but Sam, after a lifetime of listening for his big brother's voice, turned to look. Angela followed suit and Dean could hear both of them gasp.

"She's standing!," Sam said, pointing out the obvious. Just as he said that, Penny leaned too far forward and toppled into Dean's lap. He eased her gently back down on her bum, making sure that she wasn't hurt. The baby laughed, her little face crinkling in delight. Dean couldn't help but laugh too.

Angela came over and gave Penny an excited cuddle. "Good job, little one." She gave the baby a kiss and then went back to the kitchenette as a timer sounded.

Dean played peek-a-boo with Penny, delighted by her amusement for another few minutes until dinner was ready, then reluctantly put her into her crib.

After a fantastic lasagna dinner, they each had a piece of the little cake Dean had bought. Then Sam brought Angela her present. Dean watched as Angela carefully read the card and then unwrapped the little gift. "Oh!," she breathed, obviously delighted. "I don't have any pictures of Penny." As she studied the handmade frame. Dean watched his brother's face, rather than Angela. He could tell that Sam was nervous for her to like it. Sam had spent a lot of time, and fully indulged his perfectionist tendencies to make sure that the wooden frame was painted and decorated without fault.

"It's beautiful Sam, thank you so much." Angela's smile was genuine and Dean breathed a silent sigh of relief. Then she stood and kissed Sam on the cheek, "Merci, mon doux petit frère." Dean almost laughed at Sam's face. His brother was beet red and his hand had drifted to where she had kissed him. Angela turned away to put the framed photo on the night table by the bed and Dean caught Sam's eye. His little brother immediately scowled at him and Dean took pity on the kid and refrained from teasing him.

Dean and Sam helped clean up, and the three spent the rest of the evening playing cards. As much as he tried not to let it get to him, Dean was anxious about tomorrow and facing Dad. He didn't regret meeting and growing to care for Angela and Penny, but there was no way his Dad was going to understand. John Winchester saw relationships the way he saw his weapons, they needed to be practical, effective and clean.

Focusing back on the cards, he pushed his worries away until tomorrow, but when Sammy started yawning, he decided to call it a night. Knowing Dad he could very well arrive before dawn and expect them to be ready to go. He got Sam moving and then went over to where Penny was sleeping. Bending into the crib, he smoothed a hand down the baby's curls. He'd see her again tomorrow. Sam joined him to whisper a "good night" to the sleeping child. The brothers made their way to the door where Angela was waiting. Sam gave her a hug and waited for Dean before opening the door.

"Well Angela," Dean said, "I hope you had a happy birthday. Thanks again for dinner and everything." He put his hand on the door knob when Angela reached out and squeezed his arm.

"Merci, mon cher frère fort," she said. Dean smiled, he had no idea what she had said, but knew it was something nice.

"Good night," he said. Opening the door, he checked the parking lot before guiding Sam back to their room.

Once they were back, Dean had Sam pack all his stuff. Even though Dad had said that that would stay until Tuesday, Dean wanted to be ready just in case. No need to aggravate their Dad further. Sam had likely figured out that if they all took Angela and Penny to Pastor Jim in Blue Earth, then Dad would most want to move on, not bring them back here. That would mean another new school for Sam, something that normally upset his kid brother.

"Hey Sam, you OK?" Dean couldn't put his finger on it, but Sam seemed a little off tonight.

"Yeah, I'm just tired," the kid replied. Dean recognized the face Sam used when he tried to hide something from his big brother.

"You sure? I know that Dad said you could finish the school year here." He didn't want to point out another broken promise from Dad, but he wanted to understand where Sam's head was.

"Yeah, that's not it. I guess I'm just nervous for tomorrow," answered Sam - sincerely as far as Dean could tell. Sam crawled into bed, and turned out his lamp. There was still a light on in the bathroom, so Dean finished his routine and got into his own bed.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter some dark content and some violence. It's very much in keeping with the kind of action seen in the show, but just in case, read at your discretion.

It was only a six hour drive to Butler from Louisville, so John had originally planned to stay the night and head out to meet the boys first thing in the morning. But John was eager to see his sons. Now that he didn't have a case to think about, he realized that it had been over a month since he'd seen Sam and Dean in person. So he'd climbed into the Impala and headed to Pennsylvania. He decided stop in Cincinnati and pick up some Slyman's corned beef sandwiches. Dean would forgive the his surprise arrival if there was food involved.

He got caught behind an accident just past Cincinnati, and had to wait for over an hour for the police and their crew to clear the road. In truth, he didn't really mind. It was a beautiful Spring night, the moon was high and for once he wasn't bleeding, battered or bruised. Still, once he'd actually arrived in Butler he needed a drink. At this point the boys would be long asleep and he didn't want to wake them. He pulled into a rough looking bar on the outskirts of town. There were a number of wicked looking motorcycles parked beside the usual assortment of pick ups and rust buckets. Promising himself that he'd only have one drink, he climbed out of the Impala and made his way to the door.

As he entered he bumped shoulders with a tough looking man. The guy had dark hair tied back in a ponytail, and judging from the neck tattoo and the black leather jacket, the man was part of a biker gang. John wasn't easily intimidated, but this guy gave off a nasty vibe, and there was no upside to getting mixed up in gang business.

"Sorry man," John said, letting sincerity ring in his voice. The guy shot him an evil look, but just continued on to the exit like a man on a mission. Shrugging off the encounter, John picked a seat at the bar where he could watch the door and ordered a beer. The Red Sox were playing the Angels out west, and the game was still on above the bar. He picked up his beer and took the first bitter swallow, settling back to relax for a little while.

xxxxxxxx

Maurice had been killing time at the bar. He was going to go get Angela tonight, but he wanted to wait until she was asleep. The bitch deserved a little payback for stealing his cash, but then he'd drag her back home. He sure missed her cooking and the thought of her soft body underneath his made him toss back the rest of his drink and head out. It was a little past midnight, but he could wait a while outside of her room. As he left the bar, a guy bumped into him. Any other night he would have made something of it, but the guy apologize and Maurice had stuff to do. So instead of starting a bar fight, he drove over to the motel and parked across the street at the roller rink. The lights were off in all three rooms of this part of the motel, so he walked around behind the building where there was a wooded area, and leaning against a tree, lit a cigarette. Checking his watch, it was about half past midnight.

Not seeing any movement here in the back, Maurice snubbed out his cigarette and strolled over to look in the windows. One of the rooms was obviously empty. There were no curtains and in the moonlight, he could see the dusty construction equipment of some half finished project. The room at the other end of the building had curtains, but they were closed tight. He thought this might be the room that the Dean boy had gone into, but he wanted to check the last one. If Angela was shacking up with that teenager - well there would be hell to pay.

Finally checking the middle room, he spotted a crib through a crack in the curtains. He could see a small lump in the shadows that blanketed the bed - too small for two. Maurice felt a surge of exhilaration seeing Angela in the bed. With a practiced ease, he jiggled and lifted the door from the track. It didn't take much when you knew how. Creeping into the room, he stood over the bed, looking down at his daughter. Her long hair was spread out over the pillow and her face looked so peaceful in sleep. With the backs of his fingers, he caressed her cheek as he sat on the bed beside her. She was so damned beautiful. Angela began to stir and he leaned over her, ready to clap a hand over her mouth if she tried to scream. Sure enough, she opened her eyes and once she focused on his face, she opened her mouth to scream.

"Uh, uh, uh, no screaming now." He enjoyed the feel of her fragile face beneath his hand. Her eyes were wide and she struggled to move away from him despite being pinned by his weight on the bed covers. "I've been looking for you Angela. It's not nice to run away from your father." His anger began to rise. She should be fucking grateful that he kept her in the first place. He let his rage flow and pushed down on her face, her eyes widening a bit in panic. Through gritted teeth he spat at her, "You belong to me, and not only did you run away, you took my money. Nobody takes what's mine." And with that, he withdrew his hand and then slapped her hard across the face with it.

With his hands off of her, she wiggled her way out of the covers and attempted to run towards the door. Maurice was on her in a second and shoved her hard away from the door. She flew off her feet and smashed into the little table hard enough to slam it into the wall with a loud bang. Angela scrambled to her feet, but this time he grabbed her hair and dragged her back towards the bed. She was gonna learn that she was his to do with what he pleased. Flinging her, she landed on the bed, sliding off the other side with a thud. He began to walk around the end of the bed, unbuckling his belt as he stalked her. He shoved the crib out of his way, and the baby began to cry. There was no place for Angela to go, trapped between the bed and the wall, so he was gonna take his time with her. Then he was going to crush the life out of the infant and dump it out in the woods. He had no interest in another kid.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK - some more violence and threat of violence. Nothing too graphic, but it's there.

A loud banging noise woke Dean who had his knife in hand almost before he was fully conscious. Not seeing anything alarming when he scanned the room by the light from the bathroom, he looked at the clock. It was just before 1:00 am. Sam sat up groggily in the next bed.

"What's going on Dean?," he mumbled, still half asleep.

"Nothing, must have been something outside. Go back to sleep Sammy." He didn't have to ask Sam twice, as the kid flopped back down and nuzzled back into his pillow. Dean laid back down, tucking his knife back underneath his pillow, but then heard Penny start to cry. He expected the crying to end in a minute or two as Angela got up to see to her, but it didn't stop. An anxious feeling started to grow in his gut as he strained to hear through the wall.

Suddenly he heard a muffled scream. Dean flicked on the light, jammed his barefeet into his shoes and grabbed his knife. Sam jolted upright too with the sudden brightness and Dean's urgent movement. "What's happening?," he asked as Dean bolted to the door.

"Stay here," Dean commanded as he flung open the door and rushed to Angela's. He listened and could hear the distinctive smack of a fist hitting flesh. Knocking, he called to his friend, "Angela?" Hearing nothing but the baby cry, he considered going back to get his lock picks when the door flew open. A big man in black leather grabbed him and pulled him into the room, slamming the door closed behind him. Dean automatically moved to throw off the beefy hand wrapped into the front of his shirt when a brutal punch to the face knocked him off balance. There was a sharp, stinging pain on the left side of his head and his vision went blurry for a second. The man wrenched the knife out of Dean's hand and tossed it under the bed.

"Well, it seems like your little boyfriend has joined the party," the man taunted Angela. "You been screwing her?" The guy's voice was full of rage and he shook Dean like a dog with a rabbit and shoved him hard against the door, slamming his head against the wooden frame. He dropped Dean who slid down the door to the floor, woozy and shaken.

When Dean's vision cleared a bit, he could see Angela cowering against the wall beside the bed as the guy loomed over her. She was crying, her face was bruised and swollen and the neck of her shirt was torn almost to the shoulder. Dean looked around the room for weapon of some kind, Penny's piercing wail a painful soundtrack to the horrific scene. The man pulled back a fist and drove it straight into Angela's face. Her head snapped back and hit the wall behind her.

"Huh, you screwing him?," the man screamed, inches from her face. Angela looked dazed, the man's hand around her arm the only thing holding her up. Getting his feet underneath him, Dean lunged at the man's back before he could take another swing at the girl. The young hunter tried to claw at the man's eyes. The big man simply turned and smashed Dean into Penny, crushing the girl between his body and the wall. Twisting one of Dean's arms, the bigger man was able to jerk Dean off his feet and toss him into the kitchenette where he landed violently against the refrigerator. Dean slid to the floor again, close to unconsciousness. Angela too, had slid to the carpet and Dean saw the man kick her in the head with his heavy boot.

"No," Dean shouted and tried to get to Angela to protect her, but he was dizzy and having trouble getting to his feet. The man turned to him and flashed him a feral grin that made Dean's stomach churn.

"Angela belongs to me! She's my daughter and I'll do what I want!," the man bellowed. He moved towards Dean who, clinging to the counter, had just managed to get to his feet. Dean knew that Angela's father was going to kill him. Despite his yelling, the man's eyes were not crazy, but rather cold, unfeeling and predatory. They reminded Dean of a ghoul that he'd helped his father kill last year.

"Get away from my brother!" Dean and his attacker both looked up at the sliding door that was hanging partially open. Sam was standing there, still in his pyjamas, their emergency gun pointed firmly at the man in the black leather. Dean's heart almost stopped.

"Sammy, no! Run!," he shouted, desperate to save his brother. Sam's eyes flicked to him briefly, then back to his attacker. His little brother looked so small. Sam's eyes were wide with fear, but the gun in his hand was steady. Angela's father looked at Sam and chuckled evilly.

"Oh, so we've got a little hero do we?," he said and took a step towards Sam. Dean launched himself on unsteady feet away from the counter, putting himself between his brother and the man. Angela's father lashed out with a foot into Dean's gut, kicking him backwards into Sammy. The brothers collapsed into a tangle of limbs, the gun flying under Penny's crib. The two Winchesters were on one side of the bed while Angela was on the other side lying on the floor. Dean could see his knife only a couple of feet way under the box spring, not far from the bag of money. His eyes met Sam's and then he launched himself towards the knife, hand outstretched. From under the bed, he could see the man's fist punch Angela in the face another time. Both her eyes were turning black and swollen mostly shut. Blood was trickling from a cut across the bridge of her nose and where her lip was split. She was unconscious or worse, Dean thought she might be dead already.

Knife in hand, he shoved Sam behind him. At some point in the attack, he'd twisted his knee and he was standing gingerly. He limped towards the crib where Penny was still screaming. The gun was underneath if only Dean could get it. The man saw their shuffling, and faster than Dean would have thought from such a large guy, moved between Dean and Penny. Grabbing the baby out of the crib, Angela's father held her precariously, one hand menacingly around her tiny throat.

"Drop the knife, or I'll break her neck," he threatened. Dean stopped, unsure of what to do. The man smiled his sinister smile again. "Catch," he laughed and threw Penny at Dean. Dropping the knife, Dean sprung forward to catch the little girl, almost losing his balance on his bad knee. Sam holding onto the back of his shirt was the only thing that kept him on his feet as he absorbed the weight of the screaming baby. The biker pushed the crib out of the way and snatched up the gun. Pointing it at the two boys and the baby, he smirked. "You, the little one," he said, gesturing at Sam with the weapon. "Tell me where my money is, and I'll let you and your brother go."

Dean could feel Sam pressed up against his back, trembling. He tried to block Sam from view even as he tried to curl around Penny who he clutched to his chest. "He doesn't know where it is," he said, trying to keep Sammy out the line of fire.

"Ah, but you do, don't cha," the man declared smugly. "Tell me or you all die." Dean couldn't think, his head was throbbing, Penny's crying was like a buzzsaw in his brain, his heart was pounding in fear for Sam. The man thrust the gun towards them aggressively, "I mean it kid!"

Dean felt Sam step from behind him and with hands in the air, drop to the floor to shimmy under the bed. "Sam, no!," Dean shouted, terrified that his brother would be shot, but the kid was already climbing back out, bag in hand.

"Here, now let us go," Sam stepped forward and dropped the bag on the end of the bed. Dean hobbled forward and grasped his arm, trying to pull him back. The man's gaze darted towards the bag, his eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, I don't think so," their attacker said. Cocking the gun, he aimed it at Sam's heart.

"Sammy!," Dean screamed, certain he was about to see his baby brother get murdered right in front of him.

At that moment, the front door burst open with a bang. Dean barely had time to recognize their Dad when two shots rang out. Without looking, Dean dragged Sam to the ground, draping himself over both Penny and Sam, praying that his brother hadn't been hit. He waited for the next shot, one to his exposed back that would kill him, leaving Sam and Penny defenseless. The gunfire had been deafening in the small room, but now the silence was almost jarring as Dean huddled on the floor.

"Dean!" Dad's gravelly voice filled the room, and he recognized his father's boots as they appeared by his head. Dad's hands were on Dean's shoulders as he was lifted up. Resting back against the bed, Dean looked up at his Dad's concerned face. Dad reached over and propped Sam up beside Dean. Both of the older Winchesters started scanning the kid for injuries, but Sam didn't seem to be hurt, just frightened.

"Dad," cried Sam and launched himself into their father's arms. Holding Sam as the youngster sobbed, Dad's eyes met Dean's over the kid's skinny shoulders. Dad reached a hand out and gently cupped Dean's cheek, tilting his head to inspect his swollen and bruised face. Seeking some small comfort after the recent terror, Dean closed his eyes and leaned into his father's calloused palm for a second, his heart still pounding in his chest.

"What the hell happened Dean," Dad asked, kneeling in front of him. His father's voice was rough, but higher than usual and his eyes were wide with fear and adrenaline. Dean closed his eyes, his arms still around the wailing baby. He was safe, Dad was there and he could take care of everything. But his father needed a report, so with a shaky breath Dean pulled himself together enough to talk.

"I heard a noise, and then Angela screamed. That's her father," he indicated the body lying nearby, blood seeping into the carpet. "He was hitting her and I tried to stop him, but he was too strong." At this Dean hung his head, ashamed that he had failed his friend. "I guess Sam heard the fight, and he came over here with our gun." Tears were forming in Dean's eyes, and Dad reached out and pulled him into a three way hug with Sam. Penny was still squished between them, but she seemed to be settling a bit, having cried herself out.

"Are you both OK?," Dad asked after releasing them both. Sam nodded, but Dean grudgingly mentioned his twisted knee. It didn't seem important right now.

"What about Angela?," Sam asked in a small voice. During the balance of the fight, the girl had been unmoving. Dad was about to push himself to his feet to go check on her when there were footsteps and a sound at the broken door.


	32. Chapter 32

"Police! Drop the gun and get your hands up!" Dad slowly and carefully put his gun on the bed and got to his feet, hands in the air, as an office trained a weapon on him. Dean and Sam rose with their father and Sammy tucked himself up under his raised arm, clinging to Dad's side. Dean simply held the baby, too exhausted to do more than follow their Dad's lead and balance on his bum leg.

A couple more uniformed police came into the room. "She needs an ambulance," Dad said, tossing his head in Angela's direction. Sam hid his face in Dad's shirt. One of the uniforms came and checked Angela for a pulse. He quickly radioed in for the EMTs.

The original cop with the gun, motioned for Dad to move away from the body on the floor, and the Winchesters moved aside as a unit to let one of the other officers check on Angela's Dad. Dean knew by the placement of the bullet wound and the amount of blood puddled on the carpet that the asshole was dead. The cop confirmed it by looking at his colleague and shaking his head. Dad stayed calm as he was handcuffed. "Everything will be fine. Stay with Dean," was all Dad said to Sam as he was led out of the room. An officer in gloves picked up Dad's gun from the bed and checked the safety. After a quick whispered conversation with the first cop, he bought it outside. The original cop took one look at Dean and figured that he wasn't a threat, holding a baby and barely staying on his feet.

"Sit down kid," he said, motioning towards the bed as he holstered his weapon. Dean was able to shuffle over and sit by using Sammy's shoulder for balance. He pulled Sam down to sit beside him and kept Penny close. The cop came to stand in front of them, careful to avoid the blood pool. "I'm Officer Thomas Clarke. I'm gonna need you to tell me what happened." Dean felt cold and beyond tired. Telling Clarke the whole story seemed exhausting. Just then there was another sound and a group of EMTs rushed into the room. Three immediately went to Angela. Dean couldn't tell what they were doing as they were hidden by the edge of the bed, but he was grateful she was getting help. He knew she was in really bad shape. With his free hand, he tucked Sam's head into his shoulder - the kid didn't need to see that. Office Clarke, waited silently while the EMTs stabilized and loaded Angela onto a gurney. Another EMT had tossed a sheet over the dead body on the floor and then knelt in front of Sam and Dean.

"Tom, I'm just gonna check these three, OK," the EMT said over her shoulder to the cop. Dean focused blearily on her the best he could through his swollen eye. "Hi guys, I'm Jen. I'm just gonna take a quick look at you. Did you get hurt anywhere else?" Her tone was soothing even as her eyes were already assessing Dean's face. "Here, let me take the baby so I can make sure she's OK," Jen said, trying to gently pry Penny from Dean's arms. Instinctively he tightened his grip on the infant and she stopped, resting back on her knees.

"Dean, here let me hold her," Sam said from beside him. Dean finally let Sam take the tired baby from him. His arms felt oddly empty without her small weight. The EMT wrapped a thin foil blanket over his shoulders and then snapped a cold pack and gently applied it to his face.

"Hold this," she instructed, bringing his hand into position. Dean held the pack, the cold felt good against his hot skin. Jen brought out a pen light and gripping his chin lightly, shone it into both eyes. Dean hissed and tried to pull away from the light, but her grip stayed firm. "OK, I am going to ask you a few questions, so listen carefully and do your best to answer them." Jen began. "What's your name?"

"I'm Dean Winchester this is my little brother Sam, we're at the Best Budget Motel in Butler, PA. Bill Clinton is the President, the date is May 1st, 1994. Anything else?," Dean asked tiredly. He knew the drill for concussion. He's bell had been rung pretty hard, but he knew was OK, just tired and a bit shocky. The woman in front of him smiled, her eyes twinkling a little.

"Ok, tough guy, you made your point." She efficiently ran her hands over his arms, and legs. He hissed in pain when she reached his knee. Jen snapped another pack and wrapped it over his knee with a tensor bandage. Finding that he had no other significant injuries, she said, "I'm going to check out the baby now, OK?" As Sam awkwardly held Penny, Jen felt her little limbs and checked her head and neck carefully. Seeming satisfied, she turned to Sam. "How about you kid, anything I need to know about?"

"No," Sam said. He was calmer now and Dean could tell from Sam's voice that he wasn't hiding anything. "Can we see our Dad now?," this last was directed at Officer Clarke who had been listening to the exchange and patiently waiting for the EMT to be done. The cop's glance fell on the sheet covered body a few feet away and then on Sammy.

"Uh, Jen, can you help me get these guys outside?" Jen took the baby from Sam, and Tom offered Dean his arm, the cop and the EMT helped the Winchesters outside. Jen got them settled sitting on the back of an ambulance. The other rig had already left to take Angela to the local hospital. Dean could see his Dad a little ways across the parking lot. He leaning against a cop car talking to an officer who was taking notes. Meeting his Dad's eyes, Dean was reassured. Despite all the official attention that their family normally avoided like the plague, Dad seemed pretty calm and confident. Officer Clarke stepped forward, blocking Dad from view and Dean sighed, knowing he'd have to go over the whole night again.

Between him and Sam, they explained that they had met Angela and Penny as neighbors and become friends. Sam welled up when he told the officer what Angela had confessed to him about her father's abuse. Dean wrapped an arm around his brother in support. The only thing in the whole sordid story Dean changed, was that he made it sound like Angela's father had brought the gun they found in his hand. There was no good way to explain why he and Sam had it in their room. After a long time telling their story, Officer Clarke went over to where Dad was. Dean took back Penny who had been wrapped in a blanket and was peacefully sleeping after traumatic night. Dean looked down at the baby in his arms and drew strength from her presence as the gurney bearing the body of Angela's father was wheeled by towards a coroner's vehicle.


	33. Chapter 33

John saw the cop who had been talking with Dean and Sam walk his way. The crime scene was crawling with officers. Through the open door, John could see one photographing the bullet lodged in the motel's far wall. That shot had barely missed Sam. John shuddered. He looked over at his sons, both still in pyjamas sitting, leaning against each other tiredly. Dean held the baby and for a brief moment John had a flashback to the night Mary died. That night had been a cool one too, the blue and red light from emergency vehicles painting the scene in the same way they currently were. On that night he'd sat on the edge of the car and held a baby as a child leaned into him, almost as Dean was now. John shook his head and tried to erase the eerie feeling that in some twisted way, their history was partially re-enacted in front of him.

Officer Clarke pulled keys out of his pocket. "I spoke to your sons, and they corroborate your story. We were able to run a check on the guy and he is well known to the police up in Montreal. So, I'm confident that you were just protecting your sons." As he spoke Clarke unlocked the cuffs and removed them. John rubbed his wrists to wear away the feel of the metal and looked over at his boys again. "Stay in town, and we'll get in touch when we need a further statement." John nodded, knowing full well that he would be four states away before that happened.

"So what now?," he asked the cop in front of him. "What's going to happen with the girl and the baby?"

"Well CPS is on its way. My guess, is that if the girl lives, she and the child will be turned over to the Canadian authorities and they'll look for some family to take them." The cop glanced away, seemingly uncomfortable.

"So, they don't think the girl will make it?" John still didn't have the full story, but judging from how hard Dean and Sam fought for the girl, he knew that if she died that it would be hard on them both. He sighed. Out of all the things he worried about when he left them behind - demons, vamps, CPS and nosy teachers - the last thing he thought would hurt them would be caring about another child. Sometimes John really wondered if his little family was cursed.

Officer Clarke sighed too and shrugged. "I don't know, it didn't look good." He smiled sadly, "You and your sons are free to go for now. The EMT said your eldest will be fine as long as he stays off that knee for a few days." Then the cop stuck out his hand and John shook it before the uniformed man moved to go greet a blue sedan that had just pulled up. John assumed it was the CPS agents. He knew that they were there for the baby, but he automatically wanted to be near his sons.

Walking over to where Sam was leaning against his brother, he whispered a silent prayer of thanks to Mary that they were both alive. When he had pulled up and seen the door to their room open, he'd immediately assumed the worst and pulled his gun. Hearing Dean scream for his brother, and then bursting in to see his children at gunpoint was the most scared he had been in years. He could have lost them. It could have been one or both of his sons that were carted off in an ambulance or a body bag. John shuddered again at the thought, if he lost Sam or Dean he didn't think he could survive it.

Reaching his boys, he put a hand on Dean's shoulder. His son looked up, his face bruised and swollen and his green eyes apprehensive. John brushed his thumb over Dean's cheek and gave him a reassuring smile. "How are you doing son?", he asked gently, needing to hear for himself.

"I'm Ok Dad," Dean said. The boy sounded exhausted and John wanted nothing more than to wrap them both up, tuck them into the car and drive until they could forget the fear of this night. He laid a hand on Sam's head, earning him a tight smile from his shaggy headed kid. Touching his sons, John could feel the tension begin to seep from his body, they were alive and together. Just then a woman in a sweater set cleared her throat at his shoulder. John turned to her, instinctively shielding his boys a little with his body.

"Hi, my name is Christine Paulson and I'm here from Child Protective Services." The woman smiled at the small family, particularly at Dean. "I understand that these two young men saved this little girl," she said. Sam ducked his head shyly, but Dean seemed too tired to acknowledge her. His eldest simply stared at the sleeping little one in his arms. John was reminded of how tenderly Dean had held baby Sammy. He had always marveled at this gentle, nurturing side of his rough and tumble son. John had always felt that Dean had inherited his caring nature from Mary. God knows he didn't get it from John who struggled at the best of times to show his sons the affection they deserved. The woman crouched down in front of Dean and laid a kindly hand on his arm.

"What's your name?," she asked, watching Dean closely. It took a long time for Dean to answer.

"Dean," he said in a low voice.

"And what's this little one's name?," she asked softly.

"Penny," he said thickly, then cleared his throat.

"Hi Penny," she cooed at the baby. She let them sit there for a long moment before looking up into Dean's face. "Dean, my job is to make sure that Penny is well taken care of. We will keep her safe until her mother gets better, or….well, we'll keep her safe." Officer Clarke had obviously briefed Ms. Paulson because her voice was subdued as she avoided saying more about Angela's condition. Under his hand, John could feel Dean trembling slightly.

"Dean, I know it's hard, but I need you to give Penny to me. Can you do that for me?" The woman was patient and simply waited until Dean slowly moved his arms and passed the sleeping child to her. Sam reached across before she stood up and stoked Penny's cheek with the back of his fingers. "

"Bye Penny," he said before turning and burying his face in John's shirt once again. John spread a hand across his son's small back. Dean also reached out and ran his hand across the baby's fine curls, but his eldest didn't say anything. Ms. Paulson stood and with a sad nod to John, walked away.

A stranger might think his son was taking this new loss well, but John could see the unshed tears burning in Dean's green eyes. His jaw was clenched as he struggled with his emotions, but ultimately Dean kept it together. Sliding his hand down to Dean's bicep, John pulled his eldest to his feet. Sam darted around to Dean's other side and the little family made their way to their room. John made sure he was between his boys and the room next door which was still abuzz with police activity. Carefully shutting the door on the noise and confusion outside, he and Sam maneuvered Dean over to one of the beds. John sat across from his sons and sighed, rubbing a palm over his stubbled face.

"Can you boys tell me exactly what happened tonight?" he asked. Dean looked up and met his eyes. His son looked wrecked - exhausted with pain and suppressed grief evident in his face.

"I'm sorry Sir," was all Dean got out before Sam flung his arms around his brother. The two radiated such misery that John couldn't bear to push. They needed sleep, but there weren't going to get it here.

"You know what, it can wait. If you boys have your things together, what do you say we get out of here?" Sam jumped up and pulled their packed bags from under the bed. John did a quick circuit of the room, picking up their stuff from the bathroom and packing up the portable food from the kitchen. Ten minutes later they were ready to go. Dean had simply sat, watching them blindly as they efficiently emptied the room. John ran their bags out to the car and returned the room keys to the motel manager who was out watching the commotion. Coming back into the room, he saw Dean hobble to his feet. Sending Sam to get some ice, John wrapped an arm around Dean and took his weight.

"I got you, Dean," John said beside his son's ear as he helped his eldest out to the Impala and into the back seat. He propped up Dean's leg and discarded the fading cold pack. Taking the ice from Sam, he wrapped it around Dean's knee with a towel. Then Sam climbed in behind Dean, putting his brother's head into his small lap. John threw an old blanket over his sons and then slid into the driver's seat. He sat for a minute. Tonight if he hadn't come home when he did, his children might have died. He started the car, the loud rumble of the engine comfortable, like a well worn pair of jeans. John glanced into the rear view mirror and saw both his boys. Sam was already half asleep his arm over his brother's shoulders. Dean had his face turned towards his brother and although he knew Dean was suffering, John also knew that his eldest would find the most comfort in being close to Sammy. With a fond smile at his most precious cargo, he turned and navigated his way out of the busy parking lot. John pointed the car towards the highway and let the miles of blacktop comfort him.


	34. Epilogue Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time jump to Season 11. This takes place around 11.07 Plush.

It was early morning in the bunker, quiet and peaceful. Sam's hair was still damp from his shower when he made his way to the library. He knew it was just after dawn, even if he couldn't see the sunrise from underground. It was time to boot up his laptop and begin his daily exercise in frustration. Finding anything on the Darkness seemed to be completely futile, but with how quickly Amara was reaching maturity, Sam felt that there was little time to waste. As a pre-teen, she was already consuming souls and causing destruction. And after all, it was his fault that the Darkness was loose in the world. People were dying because of him and it was only going to get worse as she grew up. Sam sighed and folded himself into the hard library chair to start work.

A couple of hours later, Sam stretched to ease the kink in his back from the hard chair and the hunching he had been doing over the pile of books spread out on the table in front of him. In the distance, he could hear Dean puttering around in the kitchen, making coffee and breakfast. Sam had to smile whenever he thought about how much joy a real kitchen brought to his brother. It was sweet seeing Dean so domestic - not that Sam would ever tell him that, unless he wanted a his nose broken.

He needed a break and now that his brother was up and moving, Sam knew that Dean would soon come into the room, bearing coffee and food. Sam pulled his laptop closer and stretched his legs out beneath the table. He skimmed one of his guilty pleasures, the book section of the New York Times online. The reality was that he didn't have much time for leisure reading, but he still enjoyed keeping a list on his computer of books he wanted to read someday.

Clicking on a link, Sam's eyes skimmed across the screen, only to stop abruptly. He leaned in closer and inhaled a short gasp. A picture of a book was on the screen, an advertisement of some kind. Sam studied the image and then clicked onto the banner which took him to the purchase page on Amazon. He scanned the information and then picked up the computer and made his way into the kitchen.

Dean was in front of the stove top, flipping bacon with a fork, a steaming mug of coffee cradled in his free hand. He glanced up when Sam walked into the room.

"Morning Sam," he said, his voice still rough from sleep.

"Hey Dean, get this," Sam replied, forgoing the usual greeting in his urgency to get his brother's attention. He held the laptop out towards Dean. "Look." But instead of looking at the screen, the older man looked at Sam.

"What? Did you find something on Amara? Just tell me." Dean turned back to the stove obviously more focused on his cooking than the computer.

"No, look at the book," Sam said urgently. He sighed in frustration when Dean turned the heat off and moved the bacon to a plate. Dean took his time before turning to actually look at the screen. He wiped his hands on a tea towel and then took the laptop and sat down at the little table.

Sam snagged and ate a piece of bacon before sitting across from Dean. He waited, studying Dean's face until recognition dawned.

"Wait, is that Angela and Penny?" he asked, looking up at Sam for confirmation. The photo printed on the book's cover was the one Sam had given to Angela as a gift decades earlier. Dean squinted at the photo before scanning the text on the page. Sam couldn't wait for him to finish reading and began to fill him in.

"Uh, huh. Apparently Penny is all grown up and is a student at the University of Chicago. I guess she wrote a book about her mother." Now that the shock of seeing the picture was beginning to wear off, Sam had so many questions.

"Huh, the summary doesn't say much," Dean commented shoving the laptop back towards his brother. Sam had already read it for himself.

"Adopted as an infant, Penny Mackinaw received her birth mother's diary on her eighteenth birthday. Reading about the tragic life sparingly written within its pages, Mackinaw was inspired to research her birth family history. Looking for a connection with the mother she can't remember, instead she found a true story of heartbreak and murder, resilience and fierce love. It's a revelatory look into a family destroyed by violence and crime and a young woman whose life was changed forever through the kindness of strangers."

Dean took a loud slurp of his coffee. "Chicago huh,...sounds like Penny did OK for herself." His older brother stood and began to cook some eggs, popping the plate of bacon into the oven to keep warm. "You wanna start the toast Sam?," Dean instructed, obviously changing the subject. Sam didn't believe for a second that Dean was as uninterested as he was feigning. The younger man knew that when Dean did his "I'm-going-to-conspicuously-ignore-this" routine that it was best not to push. His brother didn't like to talk about things right away, he needed to process a bit and sort out his feelings before he was ready to talk. Not that Dean would generally admit to having feelings about much. But Sam was patient, and after a lifetime of reading Dean's cues and body language, he was more than willing to give the older man some time.

xxxxxxxx

Dean was supposed to be researching with Sam, trying to find a lead on Amara. They had spent all morning looking for patterns of behaviour that seemed connected to victims of Amara's soul sucking feeding frenzy. Unfortunately, that was difficult when all the victims reacted differently to losing their souls. Despite the hours of scouring books and the internet, they still had nothing and Dean had been frustrated. So, he'd snuck off to the garage to work off a little anxious energy. He was still fixing little things on his Baby from their run in with the ghoul-pire deputy in Oregon. Working on the car kept his hands busy, but it left his brain free to think things through.

Dean hadn't thought of Penny or Angela in a very long time. His thoughts drifted back. After that night, Dad had taken him and Sammy to Pastor Jim's. Dean remembered expecting Dad to yell at him for putting Sam in danger and for defying his orders. But oddly, Dad never did lose his cool about what had happened. Once they were in Blue Earth, they had a muted celebration of Sam's 11th birthday. Then Dad had gotten restless as usual, and after a few days had taken off on another hunt. Dean and Sam had stayed with Jim for the rest of the school year before Dad moved them to outside of Albuquerque to hunt a skinwalker.

While they stayed with the Pastor, Dean had asked Jim to find out what had happened to Angela and Penny. A couple of weeks later, Jim had gently let him know that Angela had died in hospital from the beating inflicted by her father. That had pretty much been what Dean had expected. By fifteen, Dean figured he was pretty tough, he'd been hunting with his father for quite a few years by that point. Despite his father's best efforts, he had seen bodies gruesomely mangled by monsters and Dean had killed a few of the monsters doing the mangling himself. The blood and the ugliness of death had become somewhat commonplace by that point - something to manage and protect Sam from experiencing, but not something Dean spent much time thinking about. But after that night, for a long time he could see Angela's swollen, bloodied face every time he closed his eyes. She had been the first person he'd cared about that had died since his mother. He had been right there, but he hadn't been able to stop it from happening.

The Pastor hadn't been able to find out anything about Penny, other than that the baby girl had been put into foster care awaiting arrangements with the Canadian officials. He'd never told Sam what he knew, but the kid was smart and Dean figured that Sam had likely wheedled information out of Jim, who had a real soft spot for his brother. Ultimately, at the time, Dean had done what he always did with emotions he couldn't cope with, he'd shoved his grief and guilt down into a dark corner and carried on.

Dean straightened up from underneath Baby's hood, rotating his bad shoulder to ease off the stiffness that threatened. Dean could admit to himself that he was curious about Penny's life and if things were different, he'd be game for checking up on the young woman he hadn't seen since he'd placed her into the arms of the CPS agent. He was happy to know that Penny had gotten a good home, and apparently a good education. But they had too much on their plate right now to spend time on a trip down memory lane. He wiped his hands on a rag and closed the hood, feeling a little calmer. Sam probably hadn't noticed that he'd been gone, but glancing at the clock on the wall, Dean figured it was time to go make sure that his brother remembered to eat. He gave Baby one last caress and then turned the lights off in the garage as he went back inside.


	35. Epilogue Part 2

"Sam, what are we doing here?" Dean grumbled as he searched for a parking spot. Sam had insisted that he had a craving for some Chicago style deep dish pizza and Dean had been willing to accommodate him on their way back from Minnesota. But now as they circled around the University area, Dean knew this visit had nothing to do with pizza.

"Well I uh, made arrangements to meet with Penny Mackinaw," Sam said, in that hesitant, hopeful tone he got when he was hoping that Dean wouldn't be too mad at him. Dean blew out an exaggerated gust of air. He'd figured when they had headed towards Chicago that it was something like that. Sam had been restless and twitchy since they left Cottage Grove. Finally finding a spot on the street that was big enough for his Baby, Dean pulled over and turned off the engine. He gripped the steering wheel for a moment, not really sure if he wanted to have this conversation.

"Why do you want to open up ancient history, Sam? We don't even know this girl, not really." Dean wasn't mad, but he was reluctant to open an emotional can of worms. He turned to look at his brother. Sam was staring at his hands that were in his lap as of the meaning of life was written on his large palms. The younger man seemed to be choosing his words carefully.

"I know Dean, but….I think talking to us will be good for her," Sam said turning towards Dean. Sam's expression was carefully neutral, but his eyes gave him away. Dean could see there was something going on with his brother, so he just stared back, waiting for Sam to explain further. "It's just…I know what it's like," Sam said in a low voice, his eyes darting away to stare out at the busy street.

"Know what, what is like, Sam?," Dean asked, now honestly curious. He was willing to oblige his brother. After all, Sam didn't really ask for much and to have planned this visit while in the middle of that crazy job with Sheriff Donna - well Sam obviously wanted this meeting pretty badly. But Dean needed to know what was bothering his brother, so he just sat and listened to Baby's engine tick as she cooled down, and waited for Sam to say something.

"I know what it's like to have questions about a mother you've never met," Sam finally said. He was twisting his fingers now, and determinedly avoiding looking at Dean. With a pang, Dean clued in. This was more about Sam and his feelings about Mom than it was about Penny. His kind, sappy, big hearted dork of a brother wanted to fill in for Penny whatever blanks they could about her mother. Something he knew Sam wished he could have for himself.

"Well, c'mon then," he said and with another sigh, Dean pushed open his car door. The familiar metallic creak was a comforting sound in what seemed like a sea of hipsters and students who looked young enough to be in middle school, not college. Sam got out too, and Dean let him lead the way down the street to a coffee shop. Despite the busy sidewalks, the place was only half full, probably due to the "No Free Wifi" sign predominantly displayed on the door.

When he followed Sam into the shop, he was hit with the wonderful smell of fresh coffee and warm pastry. He scanned the room, but found it hard to tear his eyes from the display case full of a variety of pies. Sam tugged on his arm and they made there way over to a table where two young women were rising to greet them.

One of the girls was blonde, with short spiky that reminded Dean of his own easy style. She had light blue eyes and a small stud sparkled on the right side of her nose. The other girl had wavy, long auburn hair and dark blue eyes. Dean took one look at her and recognized her as Penny. She looked like her mother. Of course Penny was older and had slightly different colouring, but the similarity was easily apparent.

"Hi, I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean," Sam introduced them. Dean tried to smile.

"Hi, I'm Penny and this is my girlfriend Megan," the young woman said shyly, gesturing them to sit after they had all shaken hands. "Thanks for agreeing to meet with me," Penny said. Megan was giving them both a suspicious look, one that Dean met head on.

"So," Dean said before Sam could move the conversation forward, "who's the guy in the red shirt over there watching us?" Penny flushed, but Megan just shot him a challenging look.

"That's my brother Steve," the blonde said, turning to wave at the guy who looked grumpy at being spotted. "A couple of girls can't be too careful, can they," Megan said pointedly, holding Penny's hand protectively. "Who knows if you guys are who you say you are?" Dean bristled, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. They didn't need to be here, Hell, he'd rather be almost anywhere else. At this, Sam put a calming hand on Dean's arm and turned his focus on Penny.

"Look, we knew your mother for a short time, and we're just happy to answer as best we can any questions you might have about her," Sam said. His brother flashed those puppy eyes and dimples that he usually reserved for victims or their families. Megan's eyes softened and she turned to her girlfriend, letting Penny take the lead.

"So, uh, can you tell me the name of the motel and the town where you met my birth mother?," Penny asked. Dean gathered from this question that it was a test. She likely had changed that information in the book and was using it to check their story. Sam got his far away look for a second as he searched his memory.

"It was in Butler, Pennsylvania, at the...uh…." Sam stuttered to a halt.

"At the Best Budget Motel on Evans Road, right across from the Skate Castle," Dean interjected. Sam shot him a grateful glance which he ignored. Their rooms had all looked the same after a while, but he would never forget this particular motel.

Apparently they had passed the test because Penny seemed to relax and now leaned forward eagerly. "Uh, yeah. So, what can you tell me about my mother?"

"Well," Sam began, "your mother was kind and patient. When Dean would have to work, she would let me hang out with her after school. She always listened to whatever I wanted to tell her. She made me feel like she genuinely cared about what I was saying and she never teased me or acted bored. Although I'm sure whatever I rambled on about at that age was less than riveting, she made me feel special." Sam seemed to have put a lot of thought into this, and Dean wondered if Sam had been more sensitive about his big brother teasing than he'd let on as a kid. Of course it was ancient history now. Sam continued.

"Your mom used to sing when she was cooking or taking care of you, and she had a lovely accent, that I presume was French-Canadian?" Sam was using the tone of voice he had perfected during their many years hunting. His kid brother had a real knack for drawing information out of reluctant witnesses.

Penny nodded at Sam's question. "Yes, my mother was born outside of Montreal, Quebec. Her full name was Angelique Thelise Faubert, but her father insisted that she go by Angela, the Anglicized version." Penny seemed to speak her birth mother's name as if it was a strange and sacred word. "What else can you tell me?" she urged. Sam paused and carefully placed his hands palm down on the table. Dean recognized one of the signs that his brother was about to say something important to him.

"Your mother loved to watch the sunrise." Sam had that far away look again. "She told me once that it was like magic how the light could push the dark away. And that even on the days when you couldn't see the light, that it was always still there." Sam came back to himself and smiled softly at the girls. Dean had to wonder. Sam had been through some extremely dark times in his life, yet his brother had always had a kind of innate optimism. A sort of unshaken belief that things could get better - a belief that Dean found difficult to share. Did he owe some of that faith to Angela? Dean nudged Sam's shoulder gently.

"You never told me that Sam," he said. The taller man just shrugged a bit and stared at the table. Penny reached across and tentatively put a small hand on Sam's giant one.

"Thank you," Penny said, practically glowing with gratitude. This time Dean spoke up, warming to the earnest young woman he remembered only as a small bundle in his arms.

"She was an amazing cook. Your mom once made me some ravioli so delicious, that I've never been able to find any since that even came close to hers." Penny grinned at that, shaking off the somber vibe that Sam's revelation had created, so Dean continued. "She also had a good sense of humour. Remember Sam, when you taught her to roller skate?" Dean nudged his brother again and Sam chuckled, snapping out of his deep thoughts.

"Oh yeah, when she finally got her footing, I took her around the rink and she got bumped by someone. When she fell, she looked like a cartoon, arms and legs flying. She fell on her butt with her hair all over her face. I thought she was going to cry or get angry and frustrated, but she just pushed her hair out of her eyes and laughed," Sam said, his dimples flashing as he remembered that day. "And then she insisted that we keep going until she had it down cold." As Sam spoke, Penny listened intently. She had her lower lip between her teeth and her head was tilted as she leaned across the table as if to absorb Sam's words better.

"She mentions that day in her diary. I'm glad she had fun. That entry stood out because in general, her diary is very sad. She doesn't complain much, but it is clear that her life was very hard before she met you two," said Penny.

"How did your mother even get to Butler?," Sam asked.

"Apparently she stole money from her father to run away. She left with little more than a diaper bag for me and the clothes on her back. She walked 13 miles into the city to catch a bus to Toronto." There was awe in Penny's voice. "This was before 9/11 so crossing the Canadian-US border wasn't as difficult then. My mother figured that Maurice would hunt her down and she was trying to get as far away as she could. She only stopped in Butler because she had been running for two days straight with no sleep. She never left...well you know the rest better than I do," Penny finished sadly.

At that point a server appeared at Dean's elbow. Can I get you anything?," he addressed the table. "Coffee, tea, or maybe one of our Pineapple Mango smoothies?"

The server looked to the girls. Megan ordered some kind of fruity tea drink for the both of them. "Uh, I'll take a coffee, black. And a slice of your peach pie." Dean took advantage of the interruption which broke the tension that had formed at the table. Sam just shook his head, but Dean ignored him. "Bring him one of those pineapple smoothie things." Sam needed something so that Dean could enjoy his pie when it arrived. An awkward silence fell over the table. The server returned with a tray of glasses and Dean's slice of pie, and for a few moments the group just sipped their drinks.


	36. Epilogue Part 3

Megan, with a quick glance at her partner, asked a question. "So, if you are the two guys from the diary, then who killed Maurice?" Dean's mouth was full of pie, so Sam squirmed uncomfortably, cleared his throat and answered.

"That was our Dad. We were trying to save your mother and Maurice was going to shoot us. Dad came in at the last moment and saved our lives," Sam said as matter of factly as he could. Then Megan leaned forward with a realization.

"So, your Dad killed her Dad," she said quietly.

Sam shuddered. An old memory flashed through his head. He remembered when he was possessed by the demon Meg, listening, trapped in his own head as she taunted Jo Harvelle with something similar. "My daddy shot your daddy in the head." He clenched his hands in his lap, trying to shove that horrible memory back into the deep hole where he tried to forget it.

Dean was eyeing him carefully over the rim of his coffee cup. Sam gave him a barely perceptible nod to let him know that he was OK, then turned his attention back towards the two young women. Megan looked slightly troubled by his admission, but Penny seemed gratified.

"Good, the bastard deserved to die," Penny said fiercely. "He murdered his wife and son, killed my brother, molested and then ultimately killed my mother. I hope he is burning in Hell." Penny choked over those last words, her fury tangible from across the table. Megan gripped her hand again, but Penny just swallowed hard and waved her arm as if to clear away her anger. "Sorry, I didn't mean to lose it like that. I'm just glad he's dead and can't hurt anyone else." She forced a smile, and picked up her iced tea, but her hand was still tight in Megan's.

Sam felt terrible. Maybe Dean was right. Maybe it was a bad idea to have reopened ancient history. He'd wanted to help, but all they seemed to be doing was dredging up painful memories for everyone. Sam bounced his knee beneath the table in an effort to let some of his pent up energy out. Dean shuffled restlessly beside him then pushed his mostly eaten pie away. Sam cleared his throat again, and tried to think of something to say. He rolled his drink between his palms, the condensation from the smoothie cool and damp.

"Um, did you ever find out what happened to your grandmother and uncle?," Sam asked gently. Penny sucked in a fortifying breath and Megan slipped a comforting arm around her.

"Yeah. So, Maurice Faubert, was an important member of the local chapter of the Hells Angels. He was involved with drugs, prostitution, protection rackets, that kind of thing, which is where the money my mother took most likely came from." Penny continued when Dean nodded. "When Maurice died, his brother Danny took over his house and used it as a base of operations for the club. Later that year a bloody war began between the Quebec biker gangs. Eventually an informant told the RCMP that the body of a rival gang member was buried in the cornfield. But, when the police raided the house and dug up the field, there were actually a number of bodies buried there, including my grandmother and uncle. They had been murdered, most likely by Maurice." Penny ran out of steam. Sharing the terrible story seemed to take a lot out of her. Megan squeezed her girlfriend.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Penny. I know your mom always thought that they were safe and sound somewhere," Sam said. He reached out as if to touch Penny's arm, but a sharp look from the blonde woman had him change the movement. He let his hand rest his hand on the table. Sam felt a wave of sadness wash over him.

"You know, your mother was beautiful," said Sam. He ignored the slight smirk Dean shot him. "She was petite with long dark hair, and pretty brown eyes," Sam said softly, lost in memory. Penny's eyes sparkled like she'd just been given a gift and Megan squeezed her hand.

xxxxxxxx

"Yeah, you look like her a bit," Dean blurted, feeling slightly awkward.

Penny stared at him almost hungrily. "Really? I only have the one picture of my birth mother, the one I used for the book cover. It was tucked inside her diary when I got it." Penny sounded so wistful that Dean couldn't help feel bad for the young woman.

"Uh, about that," Sam reached into his jacket as he spoke and pulled out a brown envelope. "I took that picture. There were a few more so I scanned them and put them on a jump drive for you. There weren't many, so I also got some prints made." Sam shoved the envelope across the table. Dean could see Penny's hand tremble as she slowly reached for the packet.

Opening it carefully, she pulled out a handful of photographs. The first was similar to the book cover, it was of Penny sitting on her mother's lap. There were a few more of Penny and her mother and a few with one or both of the Winchesters in the photo. Dean couldn't believe how young they looked and he had almost forgotten just how small Sam was at that age.

"You look so young," Penny said, holding out a photo for Dean to look at. In the picture, Dean had the sleeping baby cradled to his chest. It was a beautiful shot of Penny, but the slice of his own face was what drew Dean's eyes. He felt his cheeks warm a little. There was 15 year old him, gazing at the baby with a look of sappy adoration. Turning to Sam, she held out another photo.

"How old were you here?," Penny asked showing them one of Sam holding her infant self.

"Just a few days away from 11," answered Dean for his brother who had turned to peer out the window. Dean could tell from the way Sam was clenching his jaw that the younger man was struggling with his emotions. "Sam was small for his age back then. Now, not so much." His quip brought a ghost of a smile to Sammy's face and the two girls chuckled.

Dean wasn't sure what Sam had hoped to get from this meeting, but whatever it was, apparently it wasn't what his brother expected. The girls might not notice, but Sam was practically oozing anxiety. Dean would be happy to cut things short and pull him out of here right now. But whatever was bothering Sammy, the younger man was willing to tough it out, so for now, Dean would follow Sam's lead. Meanwhile, in reaching for his drink, Dean let his shoulder press against Sam's.

xxxxxxx

Sam felt his brother's subtle attention, and allowed the contact with Dean to provide some relief and help slow his pounding heartbeat. He tried to control his emotions which had unexpectedly risen to simmer just below the surface of his outer calm. When Sam had arranged for this little meet and greet, he had been thinking about how hard it must have been for Penny to grow up. He knew what it felt like to know next to nothing about your mother. Over the years, Dean had opened up a little bit more about his memories of their Mom. Still, Sam had so many questions, and if he could help Penny get some answers to her past, then it seemed like the right thing to do. But he'd underestimated how difficult this trip down memory lane would be.

"So Penny, tell us what happened to you? I guess you got adopted?" Dean's question seemed to Sam like a ploy to change the subject. Maybe if Sam knew how well Penny's life had turned out, it would help. Penny seemed glad for the question. She put down her tea and picked up her phone that was sitting on the table.

"Yeah, I got adopted by two really wonderful people, David and Sherry Mackinaw. My parents already had two kids when they adopted me and so I have an older brother and sister; Josh and Emily." She passed over her phone to show a photo of a group of smiling people. "That's my mom and dad," she pointed, "and that's Emily with her husband Paul. They're expecting their first baby in a few months. And that's Josh with his girlfriend Sarah and her little guy Noah." Penny was obviously proud of her family and the love she felt for them was evident.

Dean took a quick look and passed the phone to Sam. Sam had to smile at the image of Penny's family clustered on top of an around a cozy looking sofa. They seemed so happy and normal. He passed the phone back as Penny continued, unwittingly echoing his thoughts.

"I had a normal, happy childhood. I knew I was adopted, but Mom and Dad never made it a big deal. When I turned 18, the RCMP released my birth mom's diary that they had been holding on to. It was written in French, but Mom found someone who translated it all for me. After I read it, I knew I had to find out more about my birth mother and my past. Dad's a professor, so he really helped me research all the information for the book. I wrote it over a couple of years and they've been nothing but supportive, I can't imagine my life without my family, or Megan." Penny gave her girlfriend a quick kiss on the cheek. "We met in first year and we've been together ever since."

"Yeah, Penny is quite the brain, she finished her honours degree in two and a half years while writing the book. And now she'd working on her Masters," Megan bragged about her girlfriend fondly.

"That's really great," Sam said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. Penny was obviously doing fine, happy and successful with a great family, and a loving relationship. He felt like an idiot thinking that he had anything she needed. His heart was still pounding, his palms were sweaty and he felt like he couldn't get enough air all of a sudden. He needed to get out of here right now.

"Well, it was really great to see you again, and uh, to meet you Megan," Sam stammered. He practically shoved Dean to let him out of the booth as he spoke. Dean stood, letting Sam get to his feet. "Good luck with your degree and, if you need anything, or if the jump drive doesn't work you, uh, have my email," and with that Sam turned and practically threw himself out of the door.

Once on the sidewalk, he quickly turned around the corner of the building and sagged against the brick wall. "Smooth, Sam," he thought, embarrassment twisting his gut as he panted to try and catch his breath.


	37. Epilogue Part 4

Dean watched Sam's abrupt exit. Apparently his worries about Sam's state of mind were justified. Something was upsetting his brother and Dean was going to get to the bottom of it. He pulled out his wallet and left some bills to cover the drinks and a generous tip. "Well, it was good to see you Penny, I'm glad things seem to be going well for you," Dean said, choosing to not address Sam's weird departure. Both young women had slid out of the booth. Penny was looking at the door with a confused expression, but she smiled at Dean when he spoke.

"Yeah, thanks for telling me about my birth mother, and for the pictures and everything," Penny said, seeming shy. "Say goodbye to Sam for me."

Megan extended her hand. "Yeah, sorry for being so suspicious. It actually was nice to meet you both," Megan said. Dean shook her hand, then nodded at Penny and began to leave, worried about Sam and eager to make sure his brother was okay.

"Uh Dean…," Penny called after him. He turned back and she stepped forward and unexpectedly hugged him. "Thanks for taking care of us back then," she muttered into his shoulder. Dean was touched, and gave her a quick squeeze in return before setting her away from himself.

"Take care of yourself kiddo," he said fondly, then went in search of his brother. He found Sam just a few steps outside the door, leaning against the wall in the alley beside the building. Sam had his arms folded across his chest. Someone else might think he was simply waiting, but Dean could tell by the frown line between Sam's eyes, and the speed of his breathing that Sam was trying to calm himself down.

"You Ok?," he asked Sam.

"Yeah, I just...needed some air," Sam said ducking his head and brushing past Dean towards where the car was parked. Dean knew there was more going on, but he kept silent and followed Sam's broad back down the block. Once they were both in the car, he glanced over at Sam who was studiously staring out the passenger window. "So, did you still want to get that pizza?," he asked. "Or would you rather head back to the Bunker?"

"Nah, we can eat," Sam said, but he continued to avoid Dean's eyes. Internally Dean stewed. Sam could be so sensitive sometimes, but if the kid needed some time to sort himself out, then Dean could be patient. He pulled the car out of the parking spot and into the flow of traffic. He'd take Sammy to Giordano's, they'd eat some pizza and then he'd get Sam to talk tonight, during the trip home. They had a 10 hour drive ahead of them and sometimes Sam would say things in the dark car, that he couldn't talk about face to face.

xxxxxxx

Dean was quietly humming along to the song on the radio, the car purring beneath them as she ate up the miles towards home. Sam had been subdued over their early dinner and had barely touched the pizza which he'd said he wanted. Sam was asleep, head resting against the passenger window, his breath fogging up the glass. Sam had drifted off, not long after they left Chicago. Dean wasn't really surprised. Sam hadn't been sleeping very well the past few weeks. These freaky god visions, or whatever the hell they were, had brought his brother a slew of nightmares. And then Sam's mini panic attack back at the coffee shop had knocked a lot out of him. Life had been kicking Sam's ass for a while now.

The guilt that he normally pushed into a deep dark corner, reared it's ugly head. It was barely three months ago that he'd almost killed Sam. His brother wasn't the only one who had nightmares. If he let himself, it was all too easy for Dean to remember Sam, teary eyed on his knees, willing to let Dean kill him if it would save his big brother. Dean dragged a hand down his chin. He could probably think of a hundred reasons why Sam wasn't doing so well, but what he couldn't figure out is what any of it had to do with Penny. He was certain that Sammy needed to talk, but until his brother was ready, Dean could do nothing but drive. Then he had an idea.

It was actually a beautiful August night, warm but not humid with a soft breeze. The last crimson rays of sunlight had slowly sunk into the horizon a few hours ago and the sky through the windshield was a panorama of stars. For a few minutes, Dean looked for an appropriate place to pull off, then finally found a farmers lane that led out into a dark, fallow field. He turned off the engine and as the last echos of the powerful rumble faded, the sound of crickets became the only thing breaking the silence. Dean reached into the backseat and pulled a couple of beer out of their faithful green cooler. He gave Sam's shoulder a shove and then opened his door and got out of the car.

xxxxxxx

The noise of the car door closing woke Sam up. It was dark and quiet and for a brief second Sam was afraid of where he was. Then the familiar, comforting feel of the Impala's leather seat reminded him that he was in the car. Automatically he rolled his head towards the driver's seat, but it was empty, inciting another microburst of panic. Wide awake now, Sam looked at his watch. It was almost midnight. A light knock on the window by his head startled him slightly, but it was only Dean. His brother waggled a beer at him.

"C'mon Sammy," was all he said before Dean made his way back to the front of the car. Sam opened his door and unfolded himself, pulling himself out of the car and into the night. Joining Dean by the Impala's grill, he stretched and looked around.

"What's going on Dean? Is everything OK?," he asked, not seeing any reason for alarm, but as always needing Dean's reassurance to fully believe his senses.

"Nope, just thought it was a nice night, and we haven't had a chance to check out the scenery lately," Dean said waving his beer skyward. His brother tapped Sam's arm with a cold bottle. Sam took it from him and looked up. The sky was a mass of stars, as if some cosmic hand had tossed diamonds onto a swath of black velvet. Sam tilted his head back and stared for a while and then turned to look at Dean. The older man simply held his gaze, took a sip of his beer and then hoisted himself up onto the hood of the car. Sam took a swallow from his own bottle then joined Dean, careful that the rivets of his jeans didn't scrape the black paint.

Dean sighed a deep contented sigh beside him and settled back against the windshield, his legs stretched out in front of him. Sam just sat, one long leg dangling off the edge of the hood. The night was peaceful and he was reminded with a wave of nostalgia of when he and Dean were younger. They had spent many nights in fields like this, watching the heavens, talking about everything or nothing, or sometimes, just sitting silently. It seemed like a million years ago, when their lives were simpler.

"So, wanna tell me what's going on?," Dean asked quietly. Sam could hear the concern in Dean's calm tone.

"Nothing," Sam responded automatically. He had grown so accustomed to keeping things to himself, not wanting to burden Dean with his issues. Besides, he was embarrassed by his reaction at the cafe.

"Uh,huh...wanna try that again Sam?," Dean nudged him with his elbow. Sam stared at Dean, whose face was just visible in the light from the moon and stars above, trying to find the words to explain how he felt. Dean looked worried and Sam couldn't do that to his brother, so he opened his mouth not sure what would spill out.

"I was an idiot," he said, drinking from the bottle in his hand. Sam stared out into the dark field.

"Yeah, which time?," Dean teased without any heat. Sam had to smile wryly a such a typical big brother come-back. He had walked into that one. But he continued, the weight of his own stupidity dragging the smile off his face.

"I was an idiot because I thought I could help Penny. I thought I could give her something she needed, something that I wish I could've had." Sam struggled to gather his thoughts. "But I should have just left it in the past, like you said." Another gulp of beer did little to help him swallow down the emotions that clambered, ready to overwhelm him again.

"Wanting to tell Penny about her mother was a nice idea Sam, I just don't understand why you're all twisted about it." Dean seemed honestly puzzled, like he wanted to understand. Suddenly, Sam couldn't hold it in anymore, he felt a tear leak from his eye and he hoped that Dean couldn't see it in the darkness.

"It's just... It didn't change anything for Penny, she was fine the way she was. It didn't make a difference. I didn't make a difference. Nothing I do seems to..." Sam stopped, determined to eliminate the wobble in his voice. He cleared his throat and turned his head away as Dean sat up to lean closer.

"Sammy -" Dean started to speak but Sam cut him off.

"No Dean, it true. I did everything and anything possible to get the Mark of Cain off of you, and what happened? It's because of me that Cas is sick, and Rowena is in the wind. It's because of me that….people died." Sam was thinking of Charlie and his brother's fervent assertion that it should have been Sam on the funeral pyre. "I released the freakin' Darkness Dean, and how many people died in Superior because of that huh? How many people's souls are being taken by Amara now as I sit here on my ass? I thought I was helping you, but I just made things worse. I'm pathetic." A sob threatened to choke him, proving his own point, so Sam had to stop. His brother gripped his arm and turned Sam, forcing him to look at Dean.

"Sammy, that's not all on you man. C'mon, I'm the one who took on the Mark in the first place, so you wanna blame someone - blame me." Dean shook him a little at that, his words rough with his own suppressed emotions. "You are not pathetic. Look, you saved me," Dean's tone softened. "You saved me, Sam, even after all the horrible things I did, even though I didn't deserve it." Dean looked away for a second, but not before Sam saw the regret in his eyes.

"Dean, that's different." Sam was afraid. Scared out of his mind and not sure that he wanted to confess to Dean the reason why. What if Dean was ashamed of him? Sam wasn't sure he could take seeing that look of disgust in Dean's eyes again.

"How Sam? How is that different?" Dean challenged him, still holding him so that he couldn't turn away.

"Because you're not a coward!," Sam practically shouted, startling Dean a little with his outburst. He sagged afterwards, so tired of trying to face his fears. "The difference is Dean, I know what I need to do, and I'm too afraid to do it. I don't think I can go back there. I don't think I can face him again." Sam wiped the back of his free hand across his eyes and swallowed the last of his beer around the lump in his throat. Dean's hand tightened where his brother gripped him.

"Sam, we talked about this. No way are you having anything to do with the Cage or Lucifer. I won't let you, Ok? It's crazy!" Dean was spitting out the words angrily, but seemed to catch himself. He slid his hand up Sam's arm to rest on his shoulder and Sam leaned slightly into his brothers touch. Saying his thoughts out loud to Dean made Sam feel a bit better, but he knew that he was still afraid and that because of it, people were dying.

"Tell me Dean, how do I just ignore what could be signs from God? If I don't do this, then people, good people like Penny are gonna die Dean. And how do I live with that?," Sam practically moaned, unable any longer to hide his tears. Dean tugged on Sam's arm to pull him over, and hating himself for needing to, Sam shuffled closer to his brother.

"Hey, it'll be OK, Sam. You'll be fine, Penny will be fine, we'll figure something out. I promise." Dean said softly. When he had been a kid, Sam had believed that Dean could find a solution to any problem, that if Dean promised to make something Ok, then it would be. But he was an adult now and this problem was his to solve. In his head Sam knew that Dean couldn't keep his promise but his heart eased a bit anyway, knowing that his big brother still wanted to try.

"Yeah, Ok," Sam said, nodding. Some of the tension he hadn't realized he was holding had slid away, and with a watery sigh, he pulled himself together, letting his body rest against the glass. Sam looked up at the stars, wondering about Heaven, and God's messages, and the two young women he'd met today. Sam doubted that he could find a way to stop the Darkness, one that didn't involve a visit to Lucifer.

Dean settled back again beside him, his shoulder pressed against Sam's and for a long time the brothers sat side by side, staring into the heavens. Sam grew calmer. Just knowing that Dean didn't judge him as a coward had renewed some of his hope. Maybe he couldn't find a way, but maybe together, their little family of two, they could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.
> 
> Thanks for reading this epic! Please let me know what you thought.


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